Unmasking the Duke's Mistress (Gentlemen of Disrepute #1)(68)

It was late by the time they reached Amersham. A waxing moon near to fullness hung high in the dark night sky and helped guide their way. The glow of light from the edges of windows shone in some of the cottages down in the village, but all was silent, all was still. Dominic glanced in the direction of the Tatton cottage, and although he was tired, travel stained and saddle sore he was restless to spur his horse down there and knock upon Arabella’s door. Was she awake? Was she thinking of him as he thought of her?

‘Do not even think it,’ warned Hunter’s quiet voice by his side. ‘You want her to see you in your best light, Dominic, not when you are in need of a bed, a bath, a shave and some fresh clothes. Besides, I need a drink, very, very badly. I hope you have got some of that rather fine brandy of yours up here.’

Hunter was right. Dominic wanted everything to be readied and perfect when he saw Arabella again. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that everything was going to be all right. ‘Come on then, five minutes to the Hall. And then you may have your brandy.’ With one last longing glance towards the Tatton cottage he turned and spurred his horse along the road towards Shardeloes Hall.




At half past six the following evening Arabella bathed Archie. Once he had been dressed in his nightclothes with his hair dried by the fire and his supper of honeyed toast and warm milk long since eaten, she settled him in his little truckle bed. Then she drew the curtains across the small bedchamber window to block out the light, which was still bright. With the curtains closed the room felt dim and safe. Archie yawned as he snuggled down beneath the covers.

She bent to give him his goodnight kiss. ‘Sleep tight, little lamb,’ she said as usual, determined not to let her son see how miserable she felt.

‘Mama,’ he said quietly, ‘I miss Dominic.’

‘I miss him too, Archie.’ She stroked his hair and kept her voice light.

‘Will he come to visit us soon?’

‘I do not know.’ She forced the smile to her face. ‘No more questions, my darling. You must go to sleep like a good boy, for it is Sunday tomorrow and we have church.’

‘Not church, Mama,’ he grumbled, but snuggled down and closed his eyes just the same.

Arabella walked down the stairs to the parlour, where her mother was sitting waiting for her.

‘How is he?’

‘Fine, because there is no school. I only hope he is well enough come Monday.’ Arabella pinched the bridge of her nose and curbed the rest of her worries for Archie and his future.

‘That Dominic Furneaux has much to answer for.’

Arabella did not feel strong enough to withstand another argument with her mother over Dominic. Her confidence felt shaken and her normal calm disposition ruffled. She was tense and anxious. ‘Mama, please let us speak no more of Dominic.’

‘No more? We have not spoken of him at all for the sake of the boy. And I have held my tongue long enough.’

Arabella gave a sigh and sat down in the armchair by the window. She lifted her needlework. ‘Mama, there is nothing to be gained by this.’

‘He abandoned you, not once but twice, Arabella, and in the worst possible of ways. Publicly announcing a betrothal only to break it off again. Of all the cruel most humiliating ways that he might—’

‘Mama!’ Arabella said quickly. It had been cruel. It had been humiliating. But for Dominic, not for her. ‘Remember that it is Dominic who gifted us this cottage and Dominic who is paying us an allowance that we may live a comfortable existence.’

‘It is only right that a man should pay for his own child, Arabella. Especially a man who is now as rich and powerful as Dominic. Archie is his son; heaven knows he has done precious little else for the boy. Casting him off without a care—it breaks my heart to see it. The boy should be heir to a dukedom, not suffering the taunts of illegitimacy or begging for the crumbs Dominic deigns to spare him!’

Arabella felt the blood drain from her face. ‘Cease this talk at once, Mama! I will not hear you say it.’ If only Mama knew the truth. I am guilty of all of these accusations, not Dominic.

‘I cannot, Arabella, for it needs to be said,’ cried her mother. ‘The spite of that man! The cruel arrogance! How you can still have a care for such a scoundrel defies logic.’ Mrs Tatton was leaning forwards in her chair in full rant. ‘I should have gone round to Arlesford House and given that man a piece of my mind before we left London. I should have told him exactly what I thought of him. That snake in the grass, that conniving, ill-mannered—’

Something snapped within Arabella. She could not hear her mother vilify Dominic for one minute more, blaming him for what she had done. The words blurted from her mouth,

‘It was not Dominic who broke the betrothal, Mama, it was me. I did it, not Dominic.’

Silence followed her words. A great roaring loud silence.

Mrs Tatton gaped at Arabella in confusion and shock. She gave a strange little disbelieving laugh and then smiled. ‘Come now, Arabella—’

‘It is the truth. I told him that I did not love him and was leaving him and still he gave me this cottage and an allowance.’

The smile slipped from her mother’s face. She looked as if she could not fully comprehend what Arabella was saying. ‘But why would you do such a thing, Arabella? Why, when I know that you love him?’