Unmasking the Duke's Mistress (Gentlemen of Disrepute #1)(71)

‘Poor Mama. I am afraid I have not been very honest with her either.’ And she explained the rest of it. ‘So many lies.’ She shook her head.

‘But all are out in the open now.’

She nodded. ‘No more dark secrets.’ It was such a relief. She smiled. ‘When did you arrive from London?’

‘Late last night.’

‘And you are only just come to find me?’

‘There was much I had to organise this day.’ He smiled in a mysterious way and then he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with a gentleness and care that mirrored the love in her heart.

‘I have missed you so, Arabella.’ His voice was low and guttural and filled with the same need that burned in her soul.

Their mouths merged, their lips revelling in the reunion        . Her hand slipped beneath the lapel of his tailcoat, beneath his waistcoat to rest against his chest. Through the lawn of his shirt she could feel the warmth of his skin and the smattering of hair upon it, and she pressed her palm flat, feeling the strong steady beat of his heart. He eased back and looked into her eyes.

‘I had better take you home, before I forget myself upon this woodland path and make us both the talk of the village.’ His fingers brushed against Arabella’s nipple and she gasped with the sensation that shivered through her.

‘I fear we are already that,’ she whispered. ‘Everyone has seen Archie. I fear they have guessed the truth, Dominic.’

‘There is nothing to fear any more, Arabella. Everything is going to be fine.’

‘Is it?’ she asked.

‘Yes, my love. It is.’ And he kissed her again. A deep kiss. A kiss of passion and of love. A kiss that spoke of how he had missed her. She gave herself up to him, wanting to hold him for ever and never let him go, lest this all turned out to be a dream that would escape her on waking.

She felt him deepen the kiss, felt the warmth of his caress and the strength and safety of his arms. And then he stopped and looked into her eyes with such love and intensity.

‘I must take you home now,’ he murmured, ‘or I will forget myself.’ One swift last kiss and then he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, grabbed the reins of his horse and began to walk her back in the direction of the cottage.

Arabella glanced down at his breeches at his obvious arousal and when she met his eyes again she was smiling.

‘You, Arabella Tatton, are a very wicked woman. It is a good job you are going to church tomorrow morning,’ he said and he smiled.



‘Do hurry along, Archie, or we are going to be late,’ Mrs Tatton scolded as they followed the woodland path the next morning in the direction of the church.

‘Trojan is still eating his hay,’ Archie explained to his grandmother, and gestured to his pretend horse. ‘We shall soon gallop fast and overtake you.’

‘Trojan?’ queried Mrs Tatton to Arabella.

Arabella smiled. ‘It is the name of Dominic’s horse.’ She smoothed down the skirt of pale blue silk and wondered if the dress was too much for the village church, but she knew Dominic would be there and she wanted to look her best for him.

Mrs Tatton smiled in return. ‘I am glad you have sorted matters with Dominic.’

‘I am too.’ Arabella felt a warm glow of happiness.

‘So, what is to happen between the two of you now?’

‘In truth, I do not know, Mama. We have not yet discussed it.’

‘Well, surely the betrothal will be reinstated and he will want to take you back to London?’

Arabella felt the smile fade from her face and some of the old tension was back. ‘I am not so sure about that. The city does not hold such good memories for either of us. But I will do whatever it takes to be with you and Archie and Dominic.’

Her mother nodded, and as Archie galloped his imaginary Trojan past them they exchanged a smile.

There was not another soul about as they neared the church, and, indeed, the church door was closed.

‘We must be very late.’ Mrs Tatton took hold of Archie’s hand, quickly smoothed the dark ruffle of his hair into some semblance of order again and hurried both him and Arabella towards the church.

Arabella pushed the heavy church door open and let her mother and son pass inside before her. After the bright sunshine outside it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior of the church porch.

‘Arabella.’ Reverend Martin sounded close by. ‘My dear girl.’ The vicar had a definite air of excitement about him and she wondered what had happened to make him so.

‘Arabella!’ She heard the catch in her mother’s voice.

‘Mama?’ And then she looked through the open door into the nave where her mother was staring. The whole church was filled with flowers and greenery. At the end of every pew a large posy had been tied in place, so that the aisle was edged with flowers of pinks and purples and creams the whole way down to the altar. Garlands had been draped beneath the beautiful stained glass windows, and two massive matching floral displays stood on either side of the altar. Arabella stared in disbelief.

‘What…?’ she began to say and then she saw the two men dressed in their finest dark tailoring standing side by side at the front of the church. The low buzz of conversation increased as those at the back started to spread the word of her arrival and she saw the taller of the two men glance around and meet her eye.