Unmasking the Duke's Mistress (Gentlemen of Disrepute #1)(43)

‘Tell me, Arabella,’ he said quietly, ‘did my father know the truth of that too?’

‘No.’ She could spare him that at least. ‘My own father was a proud man. He said that the duke had already made his feelings clear and he would not go back on his knees and beg. He thought it bad enough that we had taken his money and that it was as if you had enforced the droit de seignuir from the old feudal days when the lord thought he had the right to take the maidenhead of his serfs.’

He flinched at the word. He walked to stand before her. ‘You moved away so that I would not know.’

‘It was one of the duke’s requirements. Henry raised Archie as his own even though the truth was so plain to see.’

Dominic looked like he was breaking apart as he stood there. She watched him close his eyes. Heard him murmur, ‘My God, Arabella.’

On the door behind him she could see the smear of his blood. Nothing seemed real. Dominic had not left her. He had not abandoned her. And truth revealed only a worse tragedy than any of them could have imagined. For Dominic, and for her, and for their son upstairs.


‘You are bleeding,’ she said.

He did not even glance down at his hand with his grazed and bruised knuckles. ‘I should have been there to protect you, Arabella.’

‘Please, Dominic…’ Her voice broke. There were no words that could make any of it better.

‘I should have been your husband, Arabella. I should have been a father to my son.’

She began to weep for all that they had lost.

He came to her and sat beside her, scooping her on to his lap as if she were a small child. And then he held her close and rocked her, and she heard his voice against her hair.

‘God help us, Arabella. I will do my best for you and for Archie. I swear it.’

And Arabella laid her head against his chest.

Chapter Thirteen



The clock on the mantel was striking two as Arabella watched Archie pretend to groom the little wooden horse that Gemmell had given him.

‘You must go to sleep in your stable, Charlie.’ She could hear the softness of his voice as he spoke to the toy before hiding it behind the cushion of the sofa and galloping off across the drawing room making neighing noises.

Sitting on the sofa beside her, Mrs Tatton leaned closer and lowered her voice.

‘I cannot believe that Dominic Furneaux is behind all of this.’ She peered angrily at Arabella. ‘You should have told me, Arabella.’

‘Mama,’ Arabella sighed. ‘You must realise why I did not. It was a difficult situation and I knew how you felt about him.’

‘I thought you felt the same,’ said her mother. ‘Lord, but that man ruined your life. He ruined all our lives!’

‘Mama, I have already explained that none of it was Dominic’s fault. He suffered as much from this as we did.’

‘Nowhere near, Arabella,’ said Mrs Tatton. ‘He did not have to work his fingers to the bone, or live in a rookery, or go hungry.’

‘No, Mama. But he suffered all the same.’ When she thought of how much of his son’s life he had missed out on she felt terrible.

Her mother gave a snort of disbelief and moved on. ‘What are his intentions now that he is aware of Archie and me?’

‘He means to do his best for us.’

‘And precisely how does he plan to do that?’ Mrs Tatton demanded.

‘There are no easy answers to any of this. The past cannot be so easily undone.’ Lost years could not be recaptured. A little boy’s childhood could not be relived. The knowledge broke her heart.

‘Nor undone at all, Arabella. How can what happened ever be made right?’

‘I do not know, Mama. I need time to think. Dominic needs time to think. There is much to be considered.’

‘Much indeed,’ muttered her mother. She glanced up to the ceiling and lowered her voice again. ‘Why is he still up there? Why does he not leave?’

‘He is giving us some time together, and when I feel that we are ready I will ask him to come down. He wishes to meet Archie.’

‘I’m sure he does.’ Her mother’s mouth pressed into a thin line of disapproval. ‘Abominable rake! Do you think he will marry you?’ Mrs Tatton made it sound ridiculous.

‘I know he cannot marry me, Mama. Not now.’ The words were bitter in her mouth.

‘He is the Duke of Arlesford, Arabella. It would be unimaginable if he were to marry you. Think of the scandal.’

‘I know, Mama.’ He would keep her here as his mistress and make love to her at night, and pay for everything that she and his son wanted. There would be no more skulking and hiding for her mother and Archie. She should have been glad of it but her heart was heavier and more aching than it had ever been. She sat the teacup and saucer back down upon the table lest its tremor betray her distress.

‘Dominic has a duty to the Arlesford seat. No, Arabella, believe me when I tell you that he must marry some rich, well-connected girl, a girl with an untarnished reputation and a father that moves in the right circles.’

A girl like Lady Marianne Winslow.

It was Arabella’s unsuitability to be his bride that had caused this whole mess in the first place.

‘And when he weds her, what then of you, Arabella? Will he keep you here as his mistress while he begets children on his duchess?’ Mrs Tatton shook her head and stared at Arabella with concern. ‘And what of Archie? What will become of him when Dominic begins to fill the nursery at Shardeloes with sons who are not born out of wedlock?’