Afortnight went by with no word from Arabella. Every morning and afternoon, Henry went to the silver tray by the front door to check, but her handwriting was never upon any of the creamy paper. Of course, he knew there was nothing preventinghimfrom writing toher,but she had certainly read his letter by now. Her silence suggested she did not care for what he had included.
She must not care about Lord Powell’s history, or the falsehoods I discovered.The thought made his face contort into a mask of irritation, every time it passed through his head. When tricksters were as handsome and charming and silver-tongued as Lord Powell, the truth rarely held much sway.
“Searching again, are we?” Seth appeared from the door to the drawing room, rubbing his eyes as though he had slept there. It was not so unusual for him to do so, after a late night at the gambling halls, gentlemen’s clubs, or dinner gatherings he frequented.
Henry spun around, as if he had been caught with his fingers in the cake mixture. “I do not know what you mean.” He paused. “You look a disgrace, Milford. You really must desist with all of this reveling. It will age you before your time and destroy your poor mother’s nerves.”
“I will have you know, I did not venture out last night,” Seth replied smugly. “A young lady and I were enjoying a secret run of correspondence that endured until dawn. Speaking of which, I must apologize to your footman. I had him running back and forth all night. He likely looks worse than I do.”
Henry’s jaw dropped. “A young lady? Who?”
“You do not know her.”
“I know everyone,” Henry retorted, eager to distract his friend from the small pile of letters by the door.
Seth laughed. “That you do.” He puffed out his chest. “Well, her name is Lady Roisin, and she has recently come to London for her debut.”
“Lady Roisin?” Henry scratched his chin, which had become covered in stubble over the past week. With no motivation to join Seth on his nightly adventures, he had kept to himself and, as such, lacked the energy to have his manservant shave him.
Seth grinned proudly. “I told you, you do not know her.”
“That is an… Irish name, is it not?” Henry had no quarrel with the Irish, but he sensed the Duke and Duchess of Bowles would not be pleased. They were the sort of people who did not even consider the Irish landed gentry to be gentry at all.
Seth nodded. “You must not tell my mother and father. I have a plan to inform them very soon, and I know they will rant and rave, but… I love her, Haskett. So help me, I do.”
“How can you love her? How long have you known her?” Henry needed the details immediately. In truth, he was envious of his friend’s simple approach to life.
Seth took his friend by the arm and led him back into the drawing room. “I met her at Lord Talbot’s gathering. She was the beauty with the black hair and astonishingly dark eyes. Do you recall her? She had silver laurels in her hair.”
“I do, vaguely.” Henry remembered her standing by the pianoforte, while he had thought to himself that her eyes were not warm, like Arabella’s.
“We have encountered one another many times since and as she does not reside far from here, I decided to write to her. I cannot recall how our nightly correspondence began, but I believe I am to blame.” Seth chuckled as he folded up a blanket. “Her maid has been delivering them halfway, where your footman has been waiting, to bring them back to me.”
Henry rolled his eyes. “Then I ought to increase the poor fellow’s wage.”
“No need, my Dear Friend. I have paid him handsomely for his services.” Seth sighed and sat back against the settee. “She is a wonder, Haskett. I fully intend to marry her. As you are set to wed my sister, I am certain they will be more amenable, for your fortune will soften the blow of Lady Roisin’s circumstances.”
Henry’s throat clenched. “What do you mean? Is she… of poor station?”
“Goodness no. Her father is an Earl, and rich as Croesus. He has some hand in the merchant trade, though I cannot remember what.” Seth flashed his friend a pointed look. “You know the circumstances I mean.”
Henry nodded slowly. “She is not English.”
“Nor Scottish, which they would barely be able to stomach,” Seth retorted, visibly annoyed. “Nevertheless, as I say, because Arabella has made such a fortuitous match, I hope they will not mind who I have chosen. Indeed, they might even be grateful that I havechosensomeone. I suppose we will find out tonight.”
Henry frowned. “Tonight?”
“Goodness, did you awaken with a colander for a brain?” Seth chuckled. “The ball tonight, at my family seat. The one that is both in honor of your betrothal to my sister and not in honor of it, due to this courtship you have both insisted upon. How is the darling girl, anyway? Have you heard from her? Or is that why you have been rabidly searching the letters every morning?”
In his fractious state, and with no social occasions to tell the date by, he had quite forgotten about the ball at the Bowles Estate. Truly, he could not believe that a fortnight had already passed since his last visit to the estate. It felt like yesterday that he had been sitting beside her at the lake house, dipping his bare feet into the water and drinking in her fond smiles and radiant beauty.
I should not have left so suddenly. I should have told her of my affections then and there, instead of leaving her to dwell upon Lord Powell.
He wished he could turn the clock back and be bolder in Arabella’s company. What did it matter if Lord Powell had confessed? Arabella had not said she had returned the confession. Nor had she seemed as excited as a woman should, if someone she adored had proposed a union. An opportunity had been presented to him and he, foolishly, had missed it because of his wounded pride.
“She has not written,” Henry admitted. “I have contemplated, many times, riding to the house to see her. I… do not know why I have not.”
Even now, he could not fathom why he had stayed away. Each morning, after finding no letter from her, he had gone to have his horse saddled. And each morning, he had asked the stable hand to untack his horse again. He supposed he thought his visit would be unwelcome, as she had not responded to his letter.
