9
“Papa, I cannot do it!”
His face was bright red with rage. “You can, and you will.”
Taking a shuddering breath, Arabella lifted her chin. “No, papa. I will not. I care about him too much to continue deceiving him.”
Out of nowhere, his hand slapped her hard across the face, throwing her against the cushions. “You will do as I tell you!”
Her face stinging, Arabella slowly got to her feet, clinging to the back of the chaise lounge as her feet threatened to give way. "Papa, I will not. You may beat me until I am black and blue or may threaten me with marriage to whichever of your friends or relations you choose, but I will not continue with this charade. I will not steal something that you lost in a game of cards, simply because you believe the Duke to have been cheating."
“He was cheating!” her father roared, spittle flying from his mouth. His hand reached for her again, but Arabella scuttled to the door, keeping distance between them.
"Regardless, this is your issue and not mine," she said, breathlessly. She could feel something warm and wet trickling from the side of her mouth and tasted blood. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must go and change for the Duke’s soiree this evening. It would not do to be late.”
Seeing her father angrier than he had ever been before, Arabella practically ran down the corridor and along to her room, slamming the bedroom door closed behind her. Breathing hard, she sagged against the door, sinking down to the floor before giving in to the tears that pricked at her eyes.
Great, heaving sobs shook her entire frame, both from relief and fear. No longer would she be held over her father’s demands to obey, but there would be consequences, that was for sure. Her chin lifted. Perhaps she should simply throw herself on the mercy of the Duke. He cared for her – or at least, he had stated as much. She knew now that she had lost her heart to him, unable to remove the memory of his gentle kisses in Vauxhall gardens. Whether he would help her or not she could not say for sure, but she would not sit here and simply allow her father to manage the rest of her life. She would not marry someone simply because her father thought it best. No, she would take her chances with the Duke.
“Miss?”
Arabella scrambled to her feet, opening the door slightly to let the maid enter before swiftly closing it and locking it again.
“I’m to help you with – oh!”
Despite the pain, Arabella tried to smile, knowing it would be all round the servants by the time the maid reached the bottom of the servant's stairs. "Might you arrange my hair, please?" She moved to sit in her chair by the dressing table, hoping the maid would not comment further.
“Of course, miss,” the maid murmured, carefully beginning to brush Arabella’s hair. “And perhaps we can cover what might be a slight bruise?”
Pressing her lips together, Arabella nodded. It would not do for the Duke to see what had happened, even if she did intend to ask him for his help – although what help he could give to an unmarried lady, still living in her father’s house, she was not quite sure.
“Is everything ready?” Andrew asked, anxiously. Some of his guests had already begun to arrive, and there was already someone at the piano, and someone else setting up a game of cards. “Refreshments and the like?”
“Yes, my lord,” the butler murmured, hiding a smile. “All is well. I will ensure you are aware if there are any difficulties in regards to refreshments, of course.”
“Thank you.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “And there are no new letters? No notes?”
The butler shook his head. “None, my lord.”
“I see. Thank you.” Turning away, Andrew slipped into a corner of the room, his heart suddenly heavy. He had done everything in his power to help sort out some of his brother’s affairs, in order to find out who the threatening notes were coming from, but it seemed to be of no avail. At least society at large would be a little more at ease with having the Duke back in their midst, now that he had settled a great deal of money on some of the gentlemen his brother had wronged, but that would leave Andrew with the almost insurmountable task of attempting to get his brother to change his ways.
On top of all this, there was the constant nagging worry over the last note he had received. The writer knew that the Duke had left town – which was not surprising since some had noticed his absence, but how they knew he was in Scotland was quite out of Andrew's understanding. He had written to his brother almost immediately but had not received a response as yet. That in itself did not concern him, for Andrew knew his brother was often late with his, or any responses, but still, it worried him. Then there was the mess he'd got himself into pretending to Miss Marley that he was his brother, as well as wondering what it was her father had meant….it was all so confusing.
Andrew dropped his head into his hands for a moment, groaning quietly to himself. His heart was already tangled up with Miss Marley, and he was already wondering if this was the first stirrings of love. He had not loved before and so was quite unused to feeling such strong emotions every time he thought of the lady. The lady who thought he was the Duke of Elenford. The lady who might be hiding a secret of her own.
Well, at least he could bring one truth to light. His jaw clenched as he thought of how best to explain himself to her, hoping desperately that she would not turn from him altogether. He would have to tell her the truth – that he was sure he was in love with her already, but that he had been keeping up his impersonation of his brother simply because he was afraid that, should she find out the truth, she would turn away from him forever and that thought had him quailing with fear. He would look deeply into her eyes, and promise her that he had meant no harm. Over and over, he would beg for her forgiveness, promising her that he was exactly the man she had come to know, only with a slightly lesser title. He would offer marriage if she would accept it, for he knew he had shown her distinct favor by calling upon her so many times. Were society aware of his many calls, they would by now be expecting some kind of betrothal announcement! Andrew was glad that he had been able to keep his attentions towards Miss Marley – towards Arabella – so discreet. There were times when he appreciated his lack of interest in society, and it’s lack of interest in him.
Guilt and frustration raced through him. If only he had been honest with her from the start, then he might never have found himself in such a predicament. They might have carried along quite at ease with one another, and he would have proposed marriage and she would have accepted immediately. Now, however, Andrew felt as though he were looking into the mouth of a long, dark tunnel, with little knowledge of where it would lead, or if he would ever be able to find his way out. He simply had to hope that she would take his proffered hand and lead him towards a happy conclusion for them both. His future lay in her hands.
Jerking away from the wall, Andrew turned towards his guests, only to hear Arabella’s name being announced. Spinning around to face her, he drew in a long breath. She was a vision. Dressed in a delicate gown of light teal which seemed to shimmer as she moved, Arabella walked into the room with a light smile on her face. A large tendril covered one side of her face, close to her eye, with the rest of her hair coiled neatly in an ornate style. Andrew felt his heart stop beating for just a moment, only to slam into his chest again and again as she walked towards him.
“Miss Marley,” he breathed, remembering just in time not to use her given name in front of company. “May I say how lovely you look this evening? My heart is quite lost.”
She smiled at him, but there was a slight tremor to her lips that made him frown.
“Might I have a word with you in private at some point, Your Grace?” she murmured, looking slightly abashed. “I know it is quite unorthodox but – ”
“Of course,” Andrew replied at once, reassuring her. “My brother’s – my study is down the hall to your left. I shall join you as soon as I can.”
She nodded, giving him another quick smile before departing from his side. Wondering what it was she wished to speak to him about so urgently, he turned back to his guests, attempting to put a smile on his face. He would have to remain here for some time until his guests would not notice him slipping away to Arabella.