Arabella said nothing for a moment, then asked, “How has he been?”
“He hardly leaves his chamber,” Emma scoffed. “I hear him pacing around the manor at times, and then the clinking of glasses from the parlor or his study—wherever he hides his bottles—before he returns to his room. He scarcely speaks to us, communicating mostly through shrugs and sullen expressions.”
“I wrote to Alexander to inform him of the latest developments,” Hanna added, glaring at her.
“I don’t know what you expect to achieve by involving him,” Emma huffed. “He’s a bird-witted goose who will stay in Ireland until the day our father drops dead, and then he will return to England to claim a title he wasn’t meant for. He’ll be riding into town on a white stud to claim it, like Lady Jane Grey.”
“He is the heir to the county—he is hardly Lady Jane Grey,” Arabella argued. “You should not repeat Father’s hateful speech.”
“Oh, listen to who is speaking now, all high and mighty since you became a duchess.” Emma rolled her eyes.
Arabella mirrored the gesture and stood up. “If there is one blessing Father has given me, it’s chasing me out of that house so I don’t have to argue with the two of you over foolish things.”
“Bella, don’t leave!” Hanna pleaded, but Arabella had already stormed out of the room.
She stepped back into the ballroom, where the merriment was at its peak. Laughter, chatter, the clinking of glasses, and the sound of slippers gliding over the hardwood floor filled the air. The oppressive heat hung over the ballroom, and while she had initially enjoyed the mingling scents of the ladies’ perfumes and the roses placed around the room, now the air was thick with the less pleasant odor of sweat.
Harry approached her with a concerned expression. “There you are. I was wondering where you had gone.”
“I was with my sisters,” she replied coolly. “They are the reason I am here, after all. You seemed deep in conversation, I’m surprised you noticed I was gone.”
“Arabella, what have I done? You’re evidently cross with me, but I cannot understand why. I’ve already told you that my uncle will not trouble you again.” He sounded befogged, naturally, since he did not know she’d overheard the truth.
“And I am grateful for that,” she returned, saying nothing further but looking at him as though waiting for something more.
Although she didn’t know what she expected him to say, she was determined not to believe any words that might come out of his lips—likely lies, all of them.
“Well, I do not wish to intrude on you during this exciting evening. I know you were looking forward to it, and for what it’s worth, Lord Farnsworth seems very taken with Hanna.”
“Good,” she uttered. “I’m glad. She deserves it.”
“It’s unfortunate that Lord Hennessey did not come, but Lady Morley assured me she will find another match for Emma. I have made it known to Lord Farnsworth that I am determined to see my sisters well taken care of.”
Harry continued speaking, though Arabella wanted nothing more than for him to stop. She looked up at him and blinked. Such sentiments might have touched her had they been expressed at another time.
“I am grateful. You certainly take the vows you made before our wedding quite seriously,” she said, with as much feeling as she could muster.
“I take all the promises I make seriously, Arabella. I had hoped you would know this by now.”
“Right. Of course, you do,” she replied, her voice hollow. “Didn’t you say you had business to attend to?”
Harry looked at her, his shoulders slumping. “Yes, I did. But I had hoped perhaps we might dance together before I go. We have only ever danced together once, do you realize that?”
“I am aware. But I must decline. We cannot dance together—we are married. As a duke, you should know that only those unmarried may dance together in public. The moment you made me your wife, you gave up the privilege of dancing with me anywhere but in the privacy of our home.”
“Well then, perhaps we could dance in private? Maybe tomorrow?” he asked, with a smile that once would have charmed her, a smile that would have once made her ache for his company and eagerly accept his offer. But now, she felt nothing but a deep, bitter self-loathing.
How could she allow this man to make her believe there could be something more between them? How could she believe he was honorable? She had swallowed his lies like the fool she was.
“I must confess, I have never been much of a dancer. I would always prefer being in the orchestra rather than on the dance floor,” she said. “Anyhow, I should not keep you.”
He looked at her, crestfallen, as if she had struck him. “I see. Well, you are right—I ought to go.” He pulled out his fob watch. “It’s nearly eight. I’ve arranged for two carriages, so you may return home at your leisure. Good night.”
With that, he disappeared into the crowd.
Arabella watched him go, shaking her head as she bit her lip.
“Goodness! Did someone eat the last flummery without asking you first?” Emma drawled, appearing beside her.
