Unmasking the Duke's Mistress (Gentlemen of Disrepute #1)(37)

He was a duke. Of course he was required to marry. How na?ve she had been not to think of it. Once upon a time it was Arabella who would have been his wife. Now she was his whore. The knowledge hurt, as did the thought of him making another woman his wife. And what would it mean for her when he married? Would he still expect their arrangement to continue? Would he come seeking her bed at night before going home to that of Lady Marianne? The thought was anathema to Arabella. She could not bear to think of it.

She climbed from the bed and went to stand by the window, to look out upon the moonlit street. The hour was late and the street was empty except for the night-soil cart that was travelling slowly past and the squat man that walked by its side. She stood and watched, knowing that she was not going to find sleep that night. And in the dark shadowed corners of her mind was the image of the Whitechapel workhouse not so very far from Flower and Dean Street.

Chapter Eleven



Within the drawing room the next evening, after they had eaten and put Archie to bed, Arabella and her mother were darning a pile of Archie’s stockings, during which Mrs Tatton was making every effort to cheer Arabella just as she had been doing since they had heard about Dominic Furneaux during their shopping trip. But rather than making her feel better, Mrs Tatton’s diatribe on Dominic Furneaux and his failings was making Arabella feel worse.

‘If that wretched man had done his duty, it never would have come to this. Why, if I were ever to clap eyes on him again I would tell him exactly what—’

There was an urgent knock at the drawing-room door and then Gemmell hurried in without waiting to be told to enter. One look at the butler’s face and Arabella realised that something was wrong. Even Mrs Tatton’s heated harangue ceased when she saw him.

‘It is the d—’ He glanced at her mother and then amended what he had been about to say. ‘The master,’ he finished. ‘Just drawn up outside this very minute.’

‘I did not hear his carriage,’ said Arabella.

Her mother paled with fright.

‘Come quickly, Mrs Tatton, James here will help you upstairs.’ Gemmell gestured to her mother.

Her mother jumped to her feet, forgetting all about Archie’s stockings that she was darning so that they tumbled on to the floor. ‘Oh, my word! Oh, my word! He will catch me for sure.’ Her arms were flapping about in a panic.

‘Stay calm, Mama, there is time enough yet. No, leave that,’ Arabella said as her mother stooped to pick up the scattered stockings. ‘I will see to them. You go with James, quickly now.’

Mrs Tatton half-ran, half-hobbled from the room to take hold of the footman’s arm and the last Arabella saw, her mother was being propelled along the passageway on the arm of the footman.

She wasted no further time, for Gemmell was already hurrying to the front door to have it open in time for Dominic to reach the top of the stone stairs that led up to it. Arabella trusted him and knew that the old butler would not open the door until her mother had disappeared from sight, even if it meant he had to do the unthinkable and keep a duke waiting outside his own front door.

She crouched on the drawing-room floor and began gathering up Archie’s stockings. The front door opened. Gemmell’s voice.

Then Dominic’s sounded. And there was the steady tread of booted footsteps coming along the passageway. She had grabbed the last stockings and was hiding them behind the cushion of the armchair just as Dominic entered the drawing room.

Arabella jumped and looked flustered. There was a hint of colour in her cheeks, some of her hair had escaped its pins to fluff around her neck and face and she seemed a little out of breath.

‘I was just darning some stockings,’ she said and stuffed the stockings out of sight.

‘What need have you to darn anything? Am I not paying you enough to buy new?’

He saw the way she stiffened and the heightened colour on her cheeks and regretted his words immediately.

‘I do not like waste,’ she said. ‘A few stitches with a needle and the stockings are repaired almost as new.’

Make do and mend. And that same unease whispered about him as to the circumstances of Arabella’s life that had led her to a brothel.

There was an awkward silence between them and then she said, ‘You should have told me about Lord Misbourne’s daughter, Dominic.’

So, Misbourne’s lies had permeated even this far. ‘There is nothing to tell, Arabella.’

‘Nothing?’ She stared at him and he saw the anger flash in her eyes. ‘I know better. Little wonder that you were so displeased to meet him with me upon your arm! I know, so you need not pretend otherwise.’ She was angry and reckless with it. Her face was pale, her eyes troubled.

‘You know nothing other than a false rumour, Arabella.’

‘Stop it, Dominic! I heard it from Lady Misbourne’s mouth with my own ears.’


He stilled, his pulse suddenly beating fast. ‘You have spoken to Lady Misbourne?’

‘Not directly. I overheard her conversation with another.’

‘And what exactly did you overhear?’

‘That you are interested in her daughter as your duchess. That they are expecting you to offer for her shortly.’

He gave a cold hard laugh, although there was nothing of mirth in what he was feeling. ‘They may expect, Arabella, but they shall receive nothing.’