With Arabella, I do believe we might make some very fine memories here.
“How is Haskett Manor?” his mother asked, sipping her tea. “Or do you not know, as you spend all of your days in tiresome London? I cannot believe I once thought it a place of wonder and delight.”
Henry smiled. “I do not know, Mother. The steward sends me correspondence every now and again, to reassure me that the place is still standing.”
“Will you live there with Arabella?”
Henry paused, for he had not thought that far ahead. “I imagine so, for a time.”
“You mean, until your father is dead,” she quipped back, as forthright as ever.
“Mother!” He cast her a disapproving look. “I hope Father continues to live a long and healthy life. You know, better than anyone, that I am in no great rush to become a Duke. It is hard enough attempting to be a Marquess.”
His mother smirked. “Attempting is certainly the right word, though I am certain you will become far better at it with Arabella at your side. She will not accept any of your nonsense, if she is anything like her mother.” She dabbed at a fly that had come to rest in her tea and flicked it onto the grass. “No more gambling halls, gentlemen’s clubs, or whatever else it is you do in that awful city.”
“I am aware, Mother,” he told her firmly. “I have no concerns about giving up such things. Indeed, it is only Dear Milford that I pity, for he will have no one to lead astray. I am not even sure where he will live. I suppose he could continue to live in the townhouse.”
His mother arched an eyebrow. “Most certainly not. We are neither a charity nor a boarding house, Darling. He will either have to live with you and his sister at Haskett Manor, or he will have to find other accommodations when you are not in London.”
“I think he already has other accommodations in mind,” Henry admitted slyly.
Lady Roisin had attended the Bowles’ ball a week ago, and though he had not mentioned it to Seth, he had seen them together in the gardens, while he and Arabella were walking back to the house. They had not been doing anything untoward, merely wandering together, looking as gleeful as Henry had felt that evening.
Although, as Seth is still alive, I suppose he did not muster the courage to tell his parents… Not yet, anyway.
In truth, Henry had a feeling that his dear friend would not say a word about it to his parents until Henry and Arabella were married. That way, Seth would have Henry’s fortune to fall back on, if he happened to be disinherited.
“Oh! I hear horses!” His mother perked up, and Henry’s eyes snapped back to the winding road that snaked along the wide cliff.
He might not have cared much for the house, but he would always adore the coastal landscape here. Especially the beaches. Already, he was looking forward to showing Arabella the coves and shores where he had spent the majority of his youth.
Henry grinned at the sight of the carriage moving slowly toward the house. “She is here! Mother, she is here!”
“I can see that, Darling. I am not blind.” His mother gave him a light nudge in the arm. “I know I do not say sweet things very often, Darling, but you cannot understand how it gladdens my shriveled old heart to see you this way. My boy, my son, my only child, in love with his childhood foe. It is like a fairytale, in and of itself.”
Henry shot her another warning look. “Stop saying that! I knew I should not have told you of my affections for her.”
“Nonsense.” His mother winked. “I will keep these lips sealed once she is through the gates. Until then, I will toss that word about as much as I please, for this day is nothing short of miraculous.”
True to her word, she continued to tease him until the carriage trundled up to the gates and passed through, the driver pausing a short distance from where Henry and his mother were waiting. Only then did she fall silent, leaving Henry to welcome his betrothed.
Grinning widely, he ran up to the carriage door and opened it. “Welcome, Arabella.” His heart swelled upon seeing her, huddled on the velvet squabs, though his enthusiasm ebbed swiftly. “Are you well?”
“She is a touch nauseous, My Lord,” her lady’s maid replied. “The motion of the carriage hasn’t agreed with her.”
Henry peered deeper into the gloom, and saw that Arabella looked very green. “Come here.” He offered out his arms. “We will take some fresh air until you are feeling much improved.”
“If it please you, My Lord, I think she needs to rest,” the lady’s maid insisted.
He nodded reluctantly. “Then I will take her inside to her chambers and see that she is well tended to.”
“Thank y-you. I am s-so sorry to arrive l-like this,” Arabella stuttered, as her lady’s maid helped her to the carriage door. There, Henry lifted her into his arms and carried her up to the house, reveling in the way she clung to him, her head resting on his shoulder.
“Not at all, my dear Arabella,” he told her. “There will be time enough for us to enjoy one another’s company once you are feeling better.”
It was not quite the welcome he had imagined, but he did not mind. After all, when it came to marriage, he knew he would have to endure her every state and mood, as she would have to do with him. In sicknessandin health. And, right now, the poor thing looked very sick indeed.
* * *
