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A Wealthy Widow
A Wealthy Widow
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A Wealthy Widow

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‘I shouldn’t think so. I don’t believe she likes him. Look at the way she shrugged off his hand then. I think she is in some distress, Richard. Pray let us go and rescue her from his attentions.’

‘By Jove, yes,’ Captain Hernshaw agreed eagerly. ‘Can’t have that toad monopolising the most beautiful woman in the room—present company excepted, Mel.’

‘I know Arabella is more beautiful,’ Melinda told him with a smile. ‘Harry says I’m pretty and I am—but Belle is special.’

Captain Hernshaw held his tongue. He was in perfect agreement with his sister-in-law’s summation, and more than a little smitten with the widow, but he did not hold out much hope of her feeling the same. He was not truly in desperate need of a rich wife, for he had expectations. However, he thought it might still be too soon to offer for her and he did not wish to cause her distress. He had seen the deep grief in her eyes when she thought she was unobserved, even though her smile came bursting through like a ray of sunlight when something pleased or amused her. He frowned as he noticed the look on her face when her cousin leaned forward to whisper in her ear. She did not care for such intimacy, that was clear, but she was finding it difficult to keep him at bay.

She raised her head as he and Melinda approached, a smile of welcome on her lips. Hernshaw felt a sudden pounding in his breast, for she was truly lovely and he wished that her smile had been for him rather than his sister-in-law.

‘Melinda dearest,’ Arabella said and moved forward to kiss her friend’s cheek. ‘How are you? You look wonderful.’

‘So do you,’ Melinda replied. ‘Please, Belle, you must come and sit with me. Sir Ralph will spare you to me, will you not, sir?’

‘Arabella was going to sit with me…’ Ralph’s sullen look made him appear even more unattractive. Although tall and well made, he was fleshy of face and his sandy hair was already thinning at the temples. More than that, though, were the marks of indulgence in his complexion, the beads of sweat on his forehead and the faint odour of perspiration that enamated from his person.

‘No, I believe I have not agreed,’ Arabella said. ‘Besides, I do not think you would care for Madame Casciano’s recital, cousin.’

‘Nor I,’ Captain Hernshaw said for he had seen the flash of temper in the other man’s eyes. He was motivated to self-sacrifice for Arabella’s sake. ‘Come and give me a game of billiards, sir. I think we may leave the ladies to themselves until supper.’

Reluctantly, Ralph gave way to the firm pressure on his arm, though he threw a dark look at Arabella as she went off with her friend. He had been trying to force his company on her ever since they left the house, but he could not insist when she had said publicly that she wished to sit with Lady Hernshaw.

‘Very well,’ he said rudely, ‘though I am not much in the mood for it. I shall take myself off in an hour or so. I have better things to do than dance attendance on my mother.’

Captain Hernshaw restrained himself. He would have liked to land a facer on the other man and could have done it easily enough, but was too polite to cause a scene in the house of his sister-in-law’s aunt. However, should the chance arise at a more suitable venue, he would be quite happy to wipe the floor with Ralph Tate!

‘I have been so looking forward to this evening,’ Melinda said, hugging Arabella’s arm. ‘I was not well enough to come up for the Season, but I am here now and I was so pleased to learn that you had decided to visit Lady Tate. We shall be able to shop together and I dare say we shall meet everywhere for my aunt and yours share the same circle of friends.’

‘Yes, I am sure we shall,’ Arabella agreed. ‘I was very pleased when Aunt Hester told me you would be here—and I want to thank you for rescuing me from my cousin.’

‘I thought he was making a nuisance of himself,’ Melinda said with a little smile of amusement. ‘He is a horrid little man, isn’t he? He asked me to marry him once, before Harry proposed, and was most offended when I told him that I would not—as if I would!’ She shuddered. ‘He is awful. I do not know how you can bear him, Belle.’

‘I have to tread carefully,’ Arabella said with a little frown. ‘He is my cousin, after all. I do not wish to offend Aunt Hester, even though I find him difficult at times.’

Melinda smothered her retort. In her opinion it would be much better if Lady Tate knew her son for the odious creature he was. She might then be strong enough to refuse his frequent requests for money.

‘Oh, well,’ she said. ‘I dare say you know how to manage him, Belle. After all, no one can force you to marry him, can they?’

‘I would resist with my last breath,’ Arabella said. ‘I do not believe either he or my aunt can hope for it. I have made it clear that I do not wish to marry again.’

‘Oh, but you should,’ Melinda said, objecting to this instantly. ‘There are lots of nice gentlemen you could choose, Belle. You don’t have to marry Ralph.’

‘I certainly shall not,’ Arabella said and laughed. ‘Enough of me, Mel. Tell me, why are you in town? Is it just to buy some new clothes? I have decided to visit my seamstress while I am here. I do not need so very much, but I think I shall buy some new gowns for the winter.’

‘Oh…’ Melinda looked at her, a faint blush in her cheeks. She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘I came to see a doctor…a special one. I miscarried in the summer, you see, and my dear Harry wants to make sure I am quite well again.’

‘I am so sorry,’ Arabella said, instantly sympathetic. She too spoke in hushed tones—it was not something to be discussed too openly in public. ‘What a disappointment for you. I fear it does happen and it may be best to consult a really good doctor. He will be able to advise you concerning the future.’

‘Yes, well, I have, and he says there is no reason I shouldn’t go ahead and try again, so I shall.’ Melinda dimpled mischievously, a note of laughter in her voice now. ‘I wrote to Harry to tell him the news. He is quite pleased with the doctor’s advice, as you may imagine.’

‘Yes, I dare say.’

Melinda hesitated, glancing at her friend curiously. ‘If you do not marry, you will not have children, Belle. Have you thought about that?’

‘Yes. It is a sorrow to me that I did not conceive Ben’s child.’ Her eyes darkened with emotion, her voice low and throbbing.

‘Oh, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

‘Do not apologise, Mel. I have decided that I must speak about these things. It is true that it still hurts me, but I do not want Ben’s memory to die and sometimes—’ She broke off, shaking her head. There were times now when she could not recall Ben’s face and that frightened her. She had lost him once; she did not want to lose her precious memories.

Their hostess was asking everyone to take their seats. Small sofas and elegant elbow chairs had been arranged about the room to give a clear view of the dais that had been set up for the convenience of the musicians. The evening was to begin with the soprano Madame Casciano’s recital and would continue with pieces from Handel’s Water Music and then everyone’s favourite, Mozart.

Arabella and Melinda settled down on a small sofa, quickly becoming engrossed in the music. Because she seldom attended an evening such as this in the country, Arabella was particularly enjoying herself and it was not until the interval that she sensed someone was staring at her. Looking up, she saw it was her cousin and he was staring in a way that made her feel decidedly uncomfortable. She turned away. She did not care for the calculating expression in his eyes. He had been behaving in an irritating manner from the moment he arrived to escort them here this evening.

‘Shall we go in to supper?’ she asked of her companion as they stood up.

‘Yes, of course.’ Melinda glanced at Sir Ralph and frowned. ‘Oh yes, I see. Poor Belle! If you are not careful, he will spoil your visit. Odious man!’

‘I shall not allow him to spoil anything,’ Arabella said, lifting her head proudly. She linked arms elegantly with her friend and they walked towards the dining room, where a cold supper awaited the guests. ‘I believe I am hungry.’ She gave Ralph a cool nod in passing, determined not to let his presence throw a cloud over her. ‘What shall we do tomorrow, Mel? I have no engagements yet.’

‘Harry is coming up to join me, but he will not arrive until the evening,’ Melinda said and looked happy. ‘I think I should like to go shopping.’

‘Yes, that would be most enjoyable,’ Arabella agreed and gave her arm a squeeze. ‘Oh, look, here is Captain Hernshaw coming to join us.’

He greeted them both warmly and offered to help choose their supper from amongst the array of delicious foods on offer. When he had selected the choicest titbits, he asked one of the circling waiters to carry it all to the table they had found by a window overlooking the gardens. It was a pretty view—small lanterns twinkled amongst the trees, giving them a magical atmosphere.

Arabella was relieved that her cousin made no attempt to join them at supper and even more so when her aunt came to sit with them, telling her that Ralph had taken himself off to meet some friends. She thought that perhaps he had realised that she did not care for his company and would have more pride than to persist with his pursuit of her. She had discovered in the past that a certain reserve of manner was usually enough to deter any but the most thick-skinned fortune hunter.

The remainder of the evening had passed very pleasantly and Arabella was smiling as she prepared for bed that night. She had enjoyed herself a great deal; though she suspected that Melinda would try to promote the interests of her brother-in-law when she could, it did not matter. She found him excellent company, but was not in the least interested in becoming his wife. However, Captain Hernshaw was not the kind of man to push himself forward without encouragement, and, although prepared to be friendly, she had given him no cause to hope.

Getting into bed, Arabella snuffed out her candle. She was tired and thought that she would soon sleep, but as she closed her eyes she found herself thinking of Charles Hunter. It was odd the way he had shut her out so suddenly that morning at the inn. Perhaps there was a secret heartache that made him wish to keep his distance from others—something that had caused those dark shadows beneath his eyes.

‘Well sir, I dunno as there’s much more I can tell you,’ Fred Lightfoot said and looked into his half-empty tankard thoughtfully. ‘As I said to his lordship, I knew there was summat going on in the woods that night. It had happened afore, see—but there were summat different about it that time. Sir Montague were a rum cove, if you ask me. A lot of them girls what they had up there were whores and it were just a bit of a lark, no real harm done—but the girl I found wandering mazed was gentlefolk. I knew it as soon as I saw her and that’s why I took her to a safe place I knew of. She didn’t seem to understand what was happening to her and I couldn’t look after a girl like that, sir. Like a frightened child she was, whimpering and shrinking from my touch, even though I told her I would not hurt her. So I went off to fetch my Mary and—’

‘When you returned she had disappeared.’ Charles frowned at him. He seemed honest and clearly Daniel trusted him. ‘Could Forsythe have come and taken her away?’

‘I doubt it, sir,’ Fred said and shook his head. ‘That cottage belongs to me now my grandfather’s dead and Sir Montague knew nothing of it. I intended to do it up for me and Mary when I got the time, but I’m going to sell it now we’ve got this place with the Earl of Cavendish.’ He scratched his head. ‘I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you. It ain’t much, I know—but that girl what drowned herself, she were a village lass. And that’s all I know, sir.’

‘I was hoping for more,’ Charles said and frowned. ‘Can you recall what she looked like—the girl you helped?’

‘Yes, sir. Lingered in my mind she has, because I felt I should have done more. A pretty girl, sir, with soft fair hair hanging halfway down her back and eyes that were more green than blue…and I noticed a little mark on her left temple. It might have been a scar or a birthmark, I can’t rightly be sure.’

Charles sat forward, touching his left temple with his forefinger. ‘Sarah had a scar there. She hit her head when playing in the nursery once. My mother dismissed the nurse who allowed it, though it was not truly the woman’s fault.’ He took a shuddering breath. ‘I believe it must have been her—the description fits her perfectly. My poor sister! What can have happened to her? I have been searching for months and this is the first time I have heard anything positive. Where could she have gone after you left her?’

‘I wish as I could help you find her, sir,’ Fred said. ‘She wandered off that night alone, but I doubt she could have gone far. It might be a good idea to start a search in the surrounding district, sir. I’ve got an aunt lives in the village of St Tydyll, not more than eighteen miles distant from Sir Montague’s estate. Not much Madge Lightfoot doesn’t know about what goes on for miles around. I could send her a letter, sir, see if she has heard anything of a girl being found.’

‘Thank you, I shall be grateful for any information Mrs Lightfoot can give me, but now that I know where to concentrate my efforts I shall set my agents on the case.’ Charles signalled to the innkeeper. He was suddenly filled with new hope. Sarah had somehow escaped from the rogues who had thought to use her in their evil rites and he could not think that God would have been so merciful only to let her perish in some other way. ‘If Sarah is still alive, I shall find her. Someone must know where she is.’

‘If she found someone kind hearted enough to take her in, she may be safe, sir—though ’tis a wonder that she has not let you know where to find her.’

‘Perhaps she cannot,’ Charles said. ‘You said that she seemed confused—’ He broke off to order more ale for them both as the landlord approached. ‘It might be that she has lost her memory.’ Or more likely that she was afraid to contact her family because she felt that she had shamed them.

‘Thank you, sir.’ Fred accepted the ale, though he had refused payment in money. ‘I’ll get my Mary to send that letter off today to my aunt. I can’t write more than my name, sir, but Mary is a clever girl. If we hear anything, she will write to you if you give me an address.’

‘You may write to my house in London,’ Charles said. ‘I am grateful for your help, Mr Lightfoot, and would willingly pay for your trouble.’

‘I don’t want money for that, sir. I feel bad enough about what happened as it is. It would be a relief to me to know that she had been found safe and sound, sir—and to her poor mother, I dare say.’

‘I dare not tell my mother anything yet,’ Charles said. ‘She has been ill since Sarah’s disappearance, and if I should disappoint her it might kill her. No, I shall keep all this close to my chest, Mr Lightfoot. If we find Sarah, only her true friends will know what has happened to her. We have not talked of it outside our family and the people I trust.’

Fred nodded his understanding. Until the girl was found, the circumstances of that terrible night and the months succeeding it could not be known. It might be that she was ruined and would never be able to take her proper place in society.

‘You can trust me not to let my aunt know your sister’s name, sir. I shall just ask if she has heard of a young lady turning up out of the blue. If she is anywhere near St Tydyll, Madge will know of it.’

‘I pray God she does,’ Charles said, though he had little hope. Were it that easy to find Sarah, his agents would have done it before now. ‘As for me, I shall return to London tomorrow and set my agents in the right direction…’

‘May I speak with you, Cousin Arabella?’ Ralph asked when she returned from an outing one morning later that week. She had been in town for four days now and had done her best to avoid him as much as possible. ‘I have something particular I wish to say to you—in private, if you please?’

Arabella hesitated. It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse and make some excuse, but she knew that he would continue to pester her unless she acceded to his request. It might be as well to have it out now.

‘Very well, Ralph,’ she said in a crisp, cold tone that she hoped would deter him. ‘If you wish, we shall go into the parlour—but I must not delay long. I have to change for tea.’

He nodded, his eyes narrowing as she preceded him into the front parlour. Arabella took up a position near the pretty marble mantelpiece, turning to greet him, her head high. She looked proud and unapproachable, which made him frown.

‘Will you not be seated, cousin?’ he asked. They were of a similar height and yet he felt at a loss while she remained standing.

‘I prefer to stand,’ Arabella said, her dark eyes flashing silver. ‘Please say what you must, Ralph. I do not wish to not keep Aunt Hester waiting.’

‘You can surely spare a few minutes,’ Ralph said, looking sulky. ‘You have been here four days and I have hardly seen you. You are always out when I call. I waited purposely today to see you.’

‘I did not come to London to sit in the house, Ralph. I have been walking in the park with friends this morning and yesterday I went shopping.’

‘As you did the previous day—but we digress. I know that Mama feels it is time you remarried, Arabella. She is very fond of you, as I am. It seems to me very sensible that we should grant her wish to see you happily settled as my wife.’

‘Does it indeed?’ If Arabella’s manner had been cool before, it was positively frosty now. ‘I am afraid that I have no plans to marry again, but if I did it would be for my own sake and not to please Aunt Hester—much as I love her.’

He frowned, looking annoyed. ‘You know I did not mean it that way. I have always had a high regard for you, Arabella. I am sure we should suit very well. Besides, you have not had any other offers, have you? You can’t wish to live out your life as an old maid.’

‘It is very kind of you to concern yourself on my behalf, but I do not believe it would suit me to marry you,’ Arabella replied with dignity. How dare he say such things to her? She would have liked to be sharper, but struggled to control her anger at his insensitive behaviour for the sake of her aunt. She could see the gleam of resentment in his eyes, but was determined to continue. ‘It is hardly your business whether I have had offers of marriage or not, sir. You are my cousin, Ralph, and I wish you well for my aunt’s sake, but we have never truly been friends. Please put the idea of a marriage between us from your mind at once. The answer is and always will be no.’

‘Mama thought you might want to make her happy in her last years, but I told her you were too selfish.’ His mouth pulled back in a snarl. ‘I suppose you do not care what becomes of her if we are ruined?’

‘Aunt Hester would always have a home with me if she needed it,’ Arabella replied calmly. ‘You cannot blame me for your misfortunes, Ralph. My aunt has told me that she has helped you time and again. I have no intention of allowing you to run through my fortune at the card tables.’

‘Damn you!’ Ralph glared at her. ‘No wonder they call you the ice queen. You always were above yourself! Well, you will live to regret this, cousin.’

‘I do not understand you.’ She raised her brows at him. ‘Why should I regret something that would give me no pleasure?’

‘You leave me no choice,’ Ralph muttered. ‘I did as Mama wanted, but I would as lief go to the devil as marry a shrew!’

Arabella made no answer as he stormed from the room. She felt a little sick inside—for the look on his face had been one of hatred and she knew that she had made an enemy. Perhaps she ought not to have said as much, but she had wanted to make it clear that she would never accept an offer from him.

Going upstairs to change out of her green-striped walking gown into a pretty peach muslin, Arabella was reflective. She did not believe that her aunt had put Ralph up to it. She might wish to see her niece married, but Lady Tate could not hold out much hope of a match between Arabella and her son. She must be aware that they had never truly liked each other.

What had Ralph meant when he’d said she would live to repent turning him down? He was sometimes of a surly nature, but she did not think him capable of violence towards her. Yet he had said that her rejection had left him no choice—as if the course he now intended to follow would be her fault.

Arabella was aware of a feeling of unease as she went down to the back parlour to join her aunt for tea. Just what was her cousin hinting at?

Aunt Hester was reading a letter when Arabella entered the sunny room. She looked up and smiled, laying her letter to one side.

‘Here you are, my dear. Ralph called on us earlier—did you see him before he left?’

‘Yes…’ Arabella hesitated and then made up her mind. ‘He asked me to marry him. I refused. I am sorry if that upsets you, Aunt.’

‘I was afraid he meant to do it,’ Lady Tate said. ‘I am sorry, Arabella. I told him not to make a fool of himself. I knew you would see through him, my dear. He is more deeply in debt than I guessed. I have promised to sell a diamond necklace that my grandmother left me, but I have told him that I can do no more. He will simply have to sell what assets he has left.’

Arabella hesitated, then, ‘Perhaps I could spare a thousand or two, Aunt. For your sake I would help him this once.’

‘Oh, no, my dear,’ her aunt said, looking distressed at the idea. ‘Please do not offer. It would be a big mistake. He would only abuse your generosity and you would never be free of him. No, no, Ralph must learn to live within his means. He should look for some form of employment. I suggested that he go into the army or the church, but he was angry. He thinks that I shall sell this house for him, but I shall not.’

‘I do not see my cousin in the army, Aunt.’ Arabella could not picture Ralph as a vicar either, but refrained from saying so. Her cousin had been indulged too much as a boy and had never learned self-discipline. Selfish and thoughtless, he would not heed anyone’s advice. ‘But perhaps if he is driven to it, the church may serve.’

‘It is not to his liking,’ Lady Tate said, ‘but if he has ruined himself he must save what he can. While he continues to live in London and run with those friends of his…Mind you, Sir Montague Forsythe met with a fatal accident recently. I do not know the details but I think his sins had found him out, though Ralph will not say much concerning him. I believe they gambled together and Ralph was hoping that his friend would make him a loan to tide him over, but now it is out of the question.’

Arabella nodded. She had never met Sir Montague Forsythe and did not know what kind of a man he might be, but perhaps he might have been of help to Ralph.

‘Yes, well, perhaps he has other friends that might help him.’

‘I doubt it,’ Lady Tate said. ‘Another of his friends killed himself just before Sir Montague’s accident—possibly he had debt problems too. It has all been kept very quiet so I cannot say.’ She frowned and looked thoughtful. ‘I cannot pretend I am sorry they are gone, for they were a bad influence on Ralph. He had only been involved with them for a few months and I blame them for his excessive gambling. I think there is another—Sir Courtney Welch—but I do not think Ralph truly likes him. He does not speak of him, though I have seen them together.’

‘Well, I dare say my cousin may sell a part of the estate and recover,’ Arabella said. She reached out to touch her aunt’s hand. ‘Do not worry about it for the moment, dearest. I shall tell you what I have already told Ralph—if you should need it, there is always a home with me.’

‘You are such a sweet generous girl,’ her aunt said. ‘But I am determined not to give in to him, Arabella. This house and my jewels are all I have besides my jointure—and I do not intend to let Ralph’s foolishness ruin me completely.’

Arabella nodded, but she could not help recalling the ugly look on her cousin’s face when he’d told her that she had left him no choice…Just what had he meant by that?

Chapter Three

‘Haven’t seen you here for a while,’ Captain Hernshaw said as Charles Hunter walked into White’s that afternoon. ‘Good grief, man, you look awful—what happened to you?’

‘I had a slight accident,’ Charles admitted wryly. His injury had left him with a persistent headache. ‘I ought perhaps to have rested longer, but I had things to do. To be honest, I can’t stand being an invalid. Besides, Mama has decided that she will come up to town for a short visit next week and I have promised to be on hand to escort her to evening affairs.’

‘How is your mama?’ Captain Hernshaw frowned. He knew that Mrs Hunter had been ill for some months but was uncertain as to the cause, though he thought it might be something to do with her daughter, who was, he had heard, staying with cousins somewhere in Scotland.

‘She says she feels a little better,’ Charles said. ‘I think she might have been more sensible to take the air at Brighton or even Bath, but she wants to visit a friend of hers and also her seamstress.’

‘Ah, well, I dare say she knows best. The ladies usually do,’ Captain Hernshaw said and smiled. ‘Harry and Melinda are in town, you know.’

‘I remember your brother’s wife,’ Charles said, his stern features relaxing into a smile. ‘A sweet pretty girl…’ Very like his own sister! The thought struck like the blade of a knife. Melinda reminded him of Sarah, as she had been when he last saw her.