They had walked in the garden in the evenings together before and gazed at the stars, but Arabella had always been the one to suggest it, not him.
“Yes,” she repeated. “That would be wonderful. Now, if you will excuse me, I must prepare. He will be here in an hour, and I must change.”
“I think you look lovely the way you are,” Harry said, taking in her attire.
Arabella chuckled. “This is my riding habit. I just came back from the stables. I can hardly entertain your uncle in my riding habit.”
He smirked. “He might enjoy it. He is keen on hunting and riding. It is one of the things he dislikes about me—that I am not fond of such pursuits. As you know, any duke worth his salt is expected to be excellent at hunting, riding, fishing, and such.”
Once again, she heard the bitterness in his voice as he spoke of his uncle and wondered just why they were so at odds with one another.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I have never particularly liked horse riding either. A grave disappointment for my uncle. Since he has no sons of his own, he had always hoped that I could be the son he never had. Unfortunately, I do not share any of his interests.”
“It must have been difficult for him, not having any children. But he should not have placed his expectations on you,” Arabella said gently.
Harry ran his tongue over his bottom lip, seemingly lost in thought. “Yes, well, I certainly was a disappointment to him.”
Arabella, fearful that he had misinterpreted her words, quickly took a step toward him. “I did not mean that you were a disappointment. Of course not. Nobody can say that without jesting. You are formidable. You are well respected?—”
“You do not need to flatter me, my dear,” he said, but a smile curved his lips, and she knew that he was not angry with her.
“It is not flattery if it is true. Your reputation precedes you.”
This time, he let out a laugh. “Don’t I know that? I am well aware people think I am a secretive man who is difficult to please. Pray,” he said, tilting his head slightly to the side, “do you agree with that assessment?”
Challenged, she chuckled. “You are certainly difficult to know. Although I have come to think that your reputation for being difficult to please is unearned. It seems more that it is you who is trying to please others and finds it a difficult task.”
“That is true. Anyway, we should not dally. My uncle will be here early, I am certain—that is his habit. And I must make myselfmore presentable too. I do not wish to sit through another one of his lectures, telling me that I do not look the part of a duke.”
“You not looking like a duke?” Arabella chuckled. “Youexuderegality.”
Harry looked at her, a soft smile curving his lips, lighting up his face. Then he walked up to her and, to her surprise, took her hands in his, lifted them to his lips, and kissed them.
Her stomach fluttered at the tender gesture, and when he let go, she instantly missed his touch. Alas, they had to part and prepare themselves for their visitor.
“Do you think he will like me?” Arabella asked as her lady’s maid smoothed down the Pomona green gown she had chosen to wear.
“Of course, he will. But you have met him before, have you not?” Mabel asked.
“Yes, but only briefly. I met him when he and my father were negotiating the final terms of the jointure. I also met him at the wedding, but I never actually sat down and had a lengthy conversation with him. I am quite nervous.”
“Do not be, dear. Sir Richard can be quite severe, but he would not dare say anything unkind to you with His Grace present.”
This comment struck Arabella as odd, for it implied that Richard was not an altogether kind person or the sort of person one would wish to have tea with. “Quite severe” was not a quality one generally wished to see in a family member.
However, she pushed the thought to the back of her mind because there was nothing she could do about it anyhow. Sir Richard was coming, and she was going to have tea with him, whether she liked it or not.
The bell downstairs chimed, alerting them to their guest’s arrival.
“Well,” she said, “I shall go and have tea with him. Would you prepare my gown for the ball tonight? I will excuse myself as soon as possible to prepare for the ball, but I think it would be helpful if we had everything ready.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Mabel said. “The sky-blue gown? With the stars?”
Arabella smiled. The gown in question was another gift that Harry had given her a few days ago. It mirrored the canopy above her bed but had been fashioned into a proper ball gown, with both tulle and taffeta so that it sighed when she walked.
“Yes, and the pearl earrings and necklace set, please,” she said, and then made her way downstairs.
Masculine voices drifted up from the drawing room. One belonged to Harry—she would have known that deep baritone that was so soothing and warm, like a cup of milk on a cold night, anywhere—and the other, deeper and gravelly, belonged to Richard. She took a deep breath and placed her hand on her stomach, sucking in air and rolling her shoulders back to look as presentable as possible.
