Chapter 8
Matchmaker
Arthur looked out from his window. He had seen a couple of carriages come in already. The ball was starting around six this evening, but it wasn’t quite four, and some guests were already arriving.
“Some folks take these parties really serious,” Arthur said to himself.
He wouldn’t have been bothered, but he decided to attend to take his troubled mind away from Rebecca, even if just for the evening. He had just come back from a long ride in the field and was still in his riding breeches and cotton top. His top clung to his body like a piece of skin because of the wetness caused by sweat. Arthur walked to the mirror and stared at himself.
He wasn’t the kind of man he would describe as dashing, but he was handsome enough to attract a lady without using his position. His hair was wet and slept backwards, dark brown, almost black in poor lighting. That was the Bexley trademark; they all had it. He had decided to change his look since he came back; leaving his beard and moustache so he had a lot of facial hair now. His sister didn’t like it, which made him cherish it even more and regardless, he was tired of being reminded of the young man that left Derby anytime he looked at himself in the mirror.
Dragging the cotton top over his head, he saw his defined body. He had spent some time in London working on himself, working on his body. His body had caused some attraction from a few women, but Arthur was not in the least interested in women during all his time in London. He didn’t care.
Arthur removed his breeches too, picking up the two wet clothes and throwing them by the side of his bed.
The stewardess will pick them up there.
Arthur walked into the bathroom which had been provided with water and bent down. Dipping his hand into the bucket, he scooped water out with the small bowl and poured it on himself. There was a small piece of soup in a case beside the bucket. He was about to pick it up when he heard the door of his room open. Arthur paused, doing nothing, trying to figure out the intruder by sound alone. But the person was equally as patient and stopped doing anything.
The person must have sat on the bed. It has to be Teresa.
Arthur wondered what Lady Teresa wanted with him. He was already attending her party, so wasn’t that enough for her? Why was his sister so pushy? Arthur had his bath and wrapped himself in his towel, covering just the lower part of his body. He walked out of the bathroom.
“Teresa, you would do better to come back because –”
Arthur stopped in his tracks. The person on his bed burst into mild laughter, a reaction that drew a smile from Arthur. He walked to the person and sat down beside her.
“Mother, what are you doing here?” he asked her.
“Does Teresa sneak into your room while you have baths?” she asked him, still giggling from his wrong assumption.
“No, this would have been the first time, but I didn’t think of anybody else.”
“So you forgot about your mother,” she said, raising a brow.
“I cannot forget my mother. I didn’t fathom that it would be you. Why are you here anyway?” he asked her, standing up from the bed.
Arthur walked to his wardrobe and decided on what to wear. He wasn’t going to dress for the ball just yet, just something that he could wear for the evening, selecting a white shirt and brown trousers that didn’t venture far beyond the knee. Arthur grabbed them and walked around to his changing screen.
“So what is it, Ma?” Arthur asked from behind the screen that told the stories of what lay behind with shadows.
“Are you attending the ball your sister has organised?”
“Yes, but only much later,” Arthur replied.
There was a bit of a pause from his mother. Arthur, after some seconds, stretched his head out from the screen to confirm she was still in the room or if she wasn’t sleeping; he confirmed affirmatively for both. When she saw his head, she smiled and spoke up.
“You do know why she organised the ball, right?”
Arthur smiled.
“Yes, Mother, I do. I do not appreciate it, but I think I need a ball. I need one to take my mind off a couple of things,” Arthur replied.
He walked out from behind the screen, fully dressed. Looking at himself in the mirror, he was impressed.
Maybe I am dashing. I just need the right touch.
“Are you willing to find one from here?” she asked him.
“I don’t know.”
He really didn’t. If he saw a woman that truly mesmerised him, he would see if they could have something. He hated to say it, but he had to take his mind off Rebecca.
He had put his eyes and ears out for the past two weeks since he had seen her, but nothing concrete was discovered. The only thing he got was what he had known since that day at the gate during the burial, which was that she lived at the other side of the town around the big church there. No one seemed to know the complete story. And he couldn’t trust Lady Teresa.
I can trust Mother.
Arthur was about to speak when his mother spoke up.
“Arthur, you should know something. I cannot choose the woman for you to marry, but I can advise you on whom not to marry,” she said.
“Rebecca?”
His mother shook her head.
“I cannot tell you not to marry Rebecca, Arthur. That would be unfair to the poor girl,” she said.
“Unfair, how is that unfair to her?”
His mother didn’t reply to the question.
“But Rebecca is a woman that has seen her fair share of problems. She’s had a child already and while married to a clergyman. It would be a strange choice for a woman like that to be chosen as the Earl’s wife,” his mother said, her voice shaking slightly at the end.
Arthur nodded. She was speaking the truth. He still loved Rebecca, that much he knew, but only that.
“I don’t know if I am marrying Rebecca, Mother. She has to agree to my proposal for us to marry, doesn’t she? And I don’t know if I am proposing. So much is hanging in the air. There’s so much each party wants to say. There’s so much I don’t understand,” he said.
“So much,” his mother repeated, looking meditatively outside his window.
Countess Eleano sighed loudly. Her gown shook as she sighed. It was purple and long enough to cover her feet when she stood. Arthur was happy that his mother was getting healthier. He needed her to do so. She was another person he could trust.
“Let me say this. If she wants to speak, please Arthur, allow her to speak. When people are separated for so long, then blaming themselves isn’t worth it because so much would have come between them. And then she married a clergyman, what does a clergyman have to offer her? And don’t be deceived to think it was love. The man was more than twenty years older than her. Love doesn’t really come to play.
“At the same time, I think you would be making a better choice if you picked another daughter of a peer without so much history. A woman who would assure less gossip and a fresh start,” she said, shuffling her feet as she was rising.
Arthur watched her stand up then walk slowly to the door.
“You are aware her father missed the funeral,” Arthur said.
“Yes,” his mother said, turning backwards on getting to the door.
“A message was sent to him, and he replied. He claimed that he was terribly ill during the period of the funeral. And that he remains a faithful ally of any Bexley, father or son.”
The Countess nodded.
“He was angry about the way things went with his daughter, everyone would be. Now he has probably seen that she had a few choices, and she picked that one. I hope he has made peace with her choice,” she said.
Arthur nodded, even though he didn’t fully understand. As his mother was going out of the room, the stewardess who cleaned it came in. Arthur pointed to the dirty clothes at the side of his bed, and she picked them up, placing them in a small bucket before walking out of the room again.
Arthur lay down on the bed and thought about all his mother had said. She spoke as if she didn’t want him to settle with Rebecca, but she wanted him to have closure with her. She spoke like she knew all that happened when he had left. Arthur shook his head. He was confused.
He opened his eyes again, and his room had become notably darker. A single lamp shone over his head, the lamp that hung above his bed. Arthur looked outside the window, and even though he could see that it was not completely dark, it was already past dawn. He had slept later than planned.
“I am so late for Teresa’s ball. I won’t hear the last of this.”
Arthur closed his eyes again, trying to recalibrate his bearings. When he opened it, it was even darker.
“I slept again. That ride must have taken a lot from me,” he said.
He sat up and came down from his huge bed. Arthur walked to his wardrobe and picked his clothes for the ball. He chose a black breech with gold hemming under a shining white silk shirt. He brushed his hair to flatness, a look that placed the focus on his face.
Arthur wore a black jacket over the shirt. Selecting a black hat, he balanced it on his head and completed his outfit with long white socks in black shoes.
“I am sure I look good enough for whatever Teresa plans,” he said and waltzed out of his room.
He composed himself on getting to the passage and walked with poise and pride. As he was descending the stairs, he discovered eyes already watching him. Some young women stared at him right from the top of the case till when he got to the bottom. People would look into his eyes and bow or tip their hat. Ladies curtseyed. Arthur nodded. He wasn’t yet used to the deference afforded the Earl.
For a ball that wasn’t traditional, Lady Teresa managed to pull in a large and dignified crowd. He hadn’t seen any peer, but he was sure a lot of their children were here.
Arthur raised his eyes, screening the crowd for his sister. He needn’t have bothered.
“Lord Bexley,” she said, coming from behind him.
Arthur turned in surprise, not immediately realising it was his sister. He remembered that they were in a public place, if not she called him Arthur. He felt more comfortable with that.
“Teresa, I was about to look for you,” he said.
“Good gracious, I came to you on time. There was no need for that hustle. Here is Diana. She’s the last daughter of the King’s personal doctor, Dr–”
“Dr. Bloom,” the girl said, filling in for the forgetful Teresa.
“Bloom, yes, Bloom, you surely have heard of Dr Bloom,” Teresa said.
Arthur shook his head. He was certain that he hadn’t heard of any Dr Bloom.
“No, I think not,” he said.
“Well, you really need to know more members of the King’s court,” Teresa said.
Arthur didn’t know the reply to give her. The girl appeared enthralled by his appearance. She had her mouth open as he stared at her, and she hadn’t said a word of her own thought. Arthur took an instant dislike to her even though she appeared fair in appearance.
Were these the sort of dimwits that Teresa expected him to pick in a ball? Women who couldn’t think farther than the next ball, the muslin in vogue or the man to marry; he didn’t want such a woman.
Arthur nodded and started walking away. His sister turned the other way too, taking Diana with her.
Arthur saw Mr Victor standing at the edge of the dance floor. He walked to meet the man, desperate for sensible conversation.
“My Lord,” Mr Victor said as Arthur drew near to him.
“Mr Victor, I hope everything is moving on right as planned,” Arthur said, doubting that his sister let Mr Victor into any of her plans.
“Well, My Lord, there is nothing that seems out of place,” Mr Victor replied.
Good answer.
“One dance has already gone by, one or two more before people move to the supper room.”
“Who danced with Teresa?” Arthur asked, knowing his sister would never give up the hostess’ dance.
“I did,” Mr Victor said, suddenly turning red.
Arthur laughed. Mr Victor had to be mighty pleased with himself.
“Is there anything I need to know about our accounts? Unpaid bills, records that aren’t matching, taxes unremitted, matters of that sort.”
“No, My Lord, there are no problems at all. Your decision to keep all your father’s old officials is a good one. The transition has been seamless,” Mr Victor commented.
Arthur patted the old man in the small of his back. Mr Victor had been the one who advised him to keep the old guard. Arthur saw no sense in doing it any other way. He had been in London for a large part of recent years. He couldn’t claim to have an intimate knowledge of how things worked and who worked right in the Earldom. He decided not to change anyone but look out for slacking officials. Those ones, he could change after a year or two of service.
“Lord Arthur,” Mr Victor said.
Arthur looked at his face. Mr Victor used his eyes to direct Arthur. Arthur turned around and saw his sister walking towards him with a girl in a short, white gown walking towards them.
Another one?
Arthur shook his head. This was slowly becoming a parade. He turned to look at Mr Victor, and the man’s mouth had formed a tight line. Arthur wasn’t so sure, but he felt the man was at the brink of bursting into laughter. His sister had gotten to him now. Arthur could see the girl behind her, already curtseying multiple times before getting to him.
“Lord Bexley, meet Lady Lily. She’s the only daughter of Duke William of Grafton,” Lady Teresa said.
The young girl stretched her hand forward, just a bit.
Surely your arms are longer than that.
Arthur bowed shortly and held her hand. It felt cold and clammy in his palm, quivering intermittently. Arthur bent low and kissed it before allowing the chit to snatch it back. Arthur raised his head, smiling. He was amazed by her timidity. Her eyes matched his only for a minute before she threw her gaze to his feet.
Arthur came closer to his sister and the young lady.
“How is the Duke, Lily? Please send my appreciation to him again for honouring our father’s funeral,” Arthur said.
“I’ll be back,” Lady Teresa said, walking away.
Arthur watched his sister leave. Her mind was always crafting something.
“So tell me about what you think of my home,” Arthur said.
The chit looked surprised, caught off-guard in fact, that Arthur had asked her to speak. Her lips quivered, and she stuttered as she sought suitable words.
“It’s a fine place to live,” she managed to say after a couple of trials.
Arthur smiled. Her timidity was endearing. She was a pretty young girl, the sort that grew up to be a beautiful attractive woman. Of slight stature and petite build, Arthur suspected that her demeanour and small voice made one think her younger than her actual age. He didn’t mind that. She was attractive.
She wore a sky blue gown with a bell-shaped lower part. It wasn’t too snug and just loose enough to enhance her features. Arthur wondered why she was so timid. She was the daughter of a Duke; surely their home was just as grand or even better. And she would have been to many balls and parties.
Maybe that’s her nature.
“Yes, it is. Though I hear that there are many better in England,” Arthur answered.
The girl looked down. After a few moments, she raised her head and seeing his waiting eyes, started to speak. She was surprised that Arthur was expecting a response from her. Arthur smiled again.
She’s the polar opposite of Rebecca.
His initial intrigue soon gave way to boredom as he lost interest in her curt, monotonous answers. She spoke like one unwilling, therefore sticking to popular rhetoric and standard replies. Arthur found her rather lacking in creativity and without possession of a mind of her own. Only her pleasing face kept him in the conversation. When the second dance started, Arthur could not but wait. Dancing with her would be surely better than talking to her.
He led her to the head of the dance where they started out a bit out of sync. It was when he drew her close, pulling her small frame into his and taking in a good whiff of her divinely scented hair that they finally started enjoying the dance. She was a good dancer. Her hands held him in faint grips. She was so light and light-footed that he felt like he was dancing with himself a lot of the time. Her small frame eased her movement in and out of his step, and soon he was smiling again as they moved to the rapid, staccato beat. Arthur missed the eye contact his dances with Rebecca were always full of, but he made do with what Lady Lily offered him.
When the violinist went up a pitch, Arthur drew her close, raising her chest and forcing her to lift her face very close to his. She quickly dropped her lids, but Arthur could feel her breath and the beat of her heart through the close contact of their torsos. She was scared, or over excited.
Scared.
By the end of the dance, Arthur was wondering what he had done for her to be so petrified of him. Arthur bowed to her, afterwards letting go of her hand. He turned back in Mr Victor’s direction. He had enjoyed the dance, but the chit was not one that he had real interest in.
“That was a fine dance, Lord Arthur,” Mr Victor commented.
Arthur wiped his brow with his white handkerchief. He wasn’t so sure, and one couldn’t trust the commendations of Mr Victor. Sometimes these right-hand men could be a little too loyal.
“The young woman can dance,” Arthur said.
He turned around to see his sister coming back with the same girl. Arthur walked down the pedestal he and Mr Victor were standing on. He was going back to his room. He was tired of the ball and the silly women. He didn’t want his sister catching up with him.
“Lord Bexley,” his sister shouted.
Arthur heard, but he didn’t respond. He was done for the night. He was starting to climb the staircase when a hand drew him back on the right arm. Arthur turned back to see his sister. She was breathing heavily like she had just stopped running. Arthur guessed she had done exactly that or walked rather quickly to catch up with him.
“Lord Bexley, I was of the opinion you would want to spend some time in the garden with Lady Lily. I felt you were enjoying each other’s company,” she said.
Arthur looked into his sister’s eyes. He was about to give her a telling off when Lady Lily appeared. She had walked normally, unlike his sister, so she was just getting to them.
“Yes, of course. She makes very fine company,” Arthur said, seething on the inside as to how he had allowed his sister to put him in the position.
He took Lady Lily’s hand and walked to the garden. He said nothing on their way there, and neither did she. He led her to the edge of a group of purple hibiscus shrubs and cut one, putting it in her hair, just above her head. For the first time that night, she smiled, showing Arthur that she was even more beautiful than he had first thought.
“You should smile more. You look amazing when you do,” he said, not minding the appropriateness of his words.
She smiled again, almost grinning this time. Arthur tucked her hair behind her ear properly. Now in the darkness and solitude of the garden, he could feel his body respond to her. He grabbed her two gloved hands, and they were soft.
Just as soft as Rebecca’s whenever I take her hand to dance with her.
But Rebecca was a far more courageous and adventurous dancer than Lady Lily. Rebecca would draw very near to Arthur and push herself on his hardness, driving him to near madness with a hunger to have her. And when they went to the garden, she would kiss him immediately, taking all of his mouth in hers. Her hands would work his body and soon free his aching member of its capturing trousers. Then she moved him in and out of her smooth hand, massaging him gently.
Arthur shook his head. Rebecca knew every part of him and what he wanted. Arthur pulled Lady Lily close to him. Her mouth was shut, but her lips quivered.
“Are you scared?” Arthur asked.
The girl shook her head and then nodded furiously a few moments later.
“I’m in love, Lord Bexley,” she said quickly.
In love? I didn’t hear that correctly.
“In love?” Arthur didn’t understand.
She shook her head and moved backwards, stepping away from him. She dropped to her knees and raised her hands in a gesture of supplication.
“Please I have a suitor, and I’m in love with him. We are engaged,” Lady Lily said.
Her voice shook as she spoke. Arthur was shocked. He didn’t expect this from her.
“I –”
“Please Lord Bexley,” she wailed, throwing her hands around his feet.
Arthur didn’t understand. He wasn’t about to force her to break her engagement because he didn’t want her. She didn’t need all the saccharine actions. Arthur bent down and lifted her up by the shoulders.
“Why are you telling me this?” he asked, looking directly into her eyes.
She looked confused instantly as if he shouldn’t be asking her.
“Lady Teresa let us know you were looking for a wife,” she said.
Arthur was about to correct her that he wasn’t looking for a wife, but he feared she wouldn’t find the courage to speak anymore.
“So?”
“So she said you had selected some of us to come. The woman you danced with would be the one you chose to marry,” she said.
Arthur chuckled, letting out a gush of air from his nose.
“Can an Earl force a daughter of a Duke into a marriage she doesn’t want?” Arthur asked her.
Lady Lily shook her head, causing Arthur to finally notice her straight blonde hair, almost white. His eyes remained on her hair for some moments until he wrested it away.
“My father would never permit me to marry Wyatt. Wyatt is a commoner,” she said.
Arthur understood now. That was why she had been scared from the start. If he picked her, she had no choice but to marry him. He was sure Teresa knew this too, but it was of her nature to use such a situation to her favour. Lady Lily was beautiful and young, but she lacked the fire that called on to him. That fire was somewhere on the other side of the town, and it called on to him now.
“What did she tell you?” Arthur said, referring to his sister.
“She told us the things you like and wouldn’t like. She wanted one of us to have you. And she decided you liked me. That was why she brought me back to you after the dance.”
Arthur laughed. How was Teresa to know what he liked and didn’t like? He pulled Lady Lily into his embrace, feeling the wetness of her cheek against his.
“I have no desire to take you away from who you love,” Arthur said.
She drew back abruptly, looking into his eyes to see if he was telling the truth. Arthur grinned.
“I don’t. And I am not in desperate need of a wife,” Arthur said.
“Thank you, Lord Bexley,” she said, delight apparent on her face.
He couldn’t find solace in another woman if he did not remove the boulder that was the pain of the last six years away from his heart. The only person who could shed light on that was probably asleep now, with her daughter in her arms, in the house of a late clergyman.
I won’t find sleep if I don’t go to her.
There was a raging thrill that coursed through him and made him blush. The allure of seeing Rebecca again made him feel energised. He needed to see her, to hear her side of the story. And he wanted to see her, to finish the kiss that he had almost started the last time they saw each other. He wanted to remind his mouth of her taste and the succulence of her lips.
“Where is your carriage?” Arthur asked.
“It’s at the front of the house,” Lady Lily replied.
Arthur took her hand and led her through the back. He walked down the path to the stable and through the stalls with horses and sleeping cattle. When he got to the back of the stable, all the memories came flooding back. Arthur had not been back to this place since he arrived.
And this is the reason.
He rested his back on the wooden doorframe, holding back the emotions. This was where he was when she blocked his way, preventing him from leaving in anger.
“Take me Arthur, I am yours,” was all she said.
That was all he had needed as he moved to her and lifted her, suckling her breasts as he carried her and placed her on a high stack of hay. He slid his hand between her legs, laughing when his fingers met her wetness. His fingers eased through the lips between her lap, grazing the bud on top of her crotch.
“Take me now Arthur,” she had moaned.
Arthur bent over her and kissed her deeply, taking away her breath with the intensity of his kiss and taking away her innocence with one deep stroke of his member. Her body stilled, and she cried out. Her fingers dug into his back, gripping him tight. She raised her right hand up and held his neck as he withdrew and pushed into her. She fit him like a sleeve, hugging his member tight and making him tremble with pleasure.
Arthur remembered that she cried out just once, moaning softly from the rest of the time as he pulled out almost completely before pushing in again. Her crotch clamped around him, and his drawback felt like a sweet, tingly peeling of second skin. Her breath got harder soon becoming far faster than Arthur’s measured pace. Arthur knew his climax was close, but he could see hers was closer. Desperate for them to finish at the same time, he withdrew himself from her, causing her to grip him tight and gasp in shock.
Arthur then focused on her breasts again, sucking one of her nipples hard. He bit gently, drawing the crisp bud and making it erect and hard. Rebecca in the meanwhile sought out his member and was desperate to fill the emptiness he was sure she was feeling. Arthur clamped down on her other nipple, sucking more softly this time as he allowed her hand to direct him back to his warm home. He stroked fast now, causing a cascade of cries from Rebecca. Her body stilled under him, getting stiff as her walls contracted and squeezed his stiff member. Arthur didn’t stop, dipping and extracting again until he came in a fluid release.
“Lord Bexley.”
Arthur opened his eyes, realising where he was. He gripped Lady Lily’s hand again and started walking faster, reinvigorated by lucid memories. Arthur led her out of the back and around the house back to the front. He knew his sister would be somewhere watching the entrance of the garden. He didn’t want her to detect that he and Lady Lily had left.
“There’s my coach, Lord Bexley,” she said, pulling Arthur’s hand.
Arthur left her and watched her manage a graceful but hurried walk to the coach. The driver started off moments later, and Arthur was sure he could see a white glove waving to him from the coach’s window, despite the darkness.
I have somewhere to go too.
Arthur went back the way he came, to the stables. He dressed the stallion with a dark mane. After ensuring the saddle and buckles were tight and well placed, he mounted it in one smooth motion. His mind was on Rebecca, and his skin bristled as he rode out of the stable, feeling the cold lap of the wind. He knew of only one church at the other side of town. That was where he was going. If he was lucky, it would be where she lived.
Arthur laughed at the silliness of his plan. It could very well not be where she lived. He would take the chance. One cold night wasn’t too much of a sacrifice. Arthur kicked hard into his steed, raring it to run at a quick pace. He tore through the path and past the front of the house. He looked back and saw his sister watching him go. Arthur wasn’t sure if she could detect that it was him, but he knew she would have found out before he was back.
What she thinks doesn’t matter, right now; nothing else matters but what Rebecca thinks.
The gate was open, and he burst through, sending his horse into an even more furious pace. His heartbeat matched the thudding sounds of the horse’s hoofs against the ground.
What will she do when she sees me?
Arthur didn’t know, but he knew what he wanted to do. And it was to fix what went wrong on that cold night in 1915.