by Mary Balogh
"The music is about to begin," Lord Farraday said to the box at large. "Would anyone care to eat now, or shall we wait until afterward?"
"We have come straight from the dinner table," Lady Harriet's sister said. "I pray you not to concern yourself about us, my lord."
Everyone seemed to be in agreement, though Mr. Hubbard renewed his suggestion that wine be ordered for the ladies. Arabella settled herself to listen to the music, having just been enthralled to hear from Mr. Hubbard that Mr. Handel had written the music to be played for the king as he was rowed down the River Thames. He could not recall which king, whether the present poor King George or his father. But Arabella was determined to believe that it was his present majesty whose mind had been soothed by the music.
Dining at White's for the third night in a row was not an enjoyable experience, Lord Astor found, though he supposed he must have done it quite frequently in the past before his marriage. It seemed so long ago!
He did not lack for company or for suggestions on how he might spend his evening. But he could not face another night of cards, the theater held out no allure for him, and he had no wish to attend Mrs. Bailey's salon. He still could not face going to Ginny's. The trouble was, he did not feel like going home either. He sat on, not making any decision at all.
Arabella was at Vauxhall Gardens. He was glad that the weather had changed for the better since the late afternoon. She would enjoy herself there. With Farraday. He was a decent-enough sort. He would look after her. Hubbard too, had she said? Hubbard had been a steady-enough fellow before his wife had run off with a wealthy wine merchant the year before and caused a huge scandal. He had taken to the bottle rather heavily at that time and still had frequent laspes. He would never harm Arabella, but would he be protection enough for her in a place like Vauxhall if she happened to be separated from Farraday?
That neighbor of theirs, Perrot, was to be there too, of course. As solid and dependable as a rock, if his judgment did not fail him. Though, of course, he was more likely to have his attention wrapped up in Frances than in Arabella. And Frances was just as likely to be fluttering those long eyelashes of hers at Charlton.
He must not forget his responsibility to Frances, Lord Astor thought. It was true that she was older than Arabella, but even so, she was not yet of age and she was quite as innocent in the ways of the world as his wife. He was not at all sure that he trusted Charlton. He had not heard anything bad about him, but his impression was that the man was vain and selfish. And Farraday was not fond of him. It seemed they were neighbors. There was no telling what might occur if Charlton happened to get Miss Wilson off on her own in Vauxhall.
Was he mad? He had allowed his wife and his sister-in-law to go off to one of the most notorious pleasure spots in London without even talking to Farraday, who had invited them. He should never have allowed them to go without his protection.
And indeed, it was not too late, he thought, rising from his table and interrupting a conversation that was holding the rapt attention of the four other listeners. Arabella would not like it, and he would probably end up merely with the irritation of watching her sparkle among her male admirers, but go he must. He must make sure that both his charges were safe.
"I have to meet Lady Astor at Vauxhall," he murmured to his table companions by way of excuse.
"How long has it been, Astor?" one of his friends asked with a grin. "A month? Six weeks? She has you firmly in leading strings, eh?"
"What does a leg shackle feel like, Astor?" another acquaintance asked.
"It must be love," a third said with a sigh, his hand over his heart.
Lord Astor joined in the general laughter.
When he reached Vauxhall Gardens, he could not immediately locate the right box. He had arrived after the main entertainment of the evening was over, he realized, and before most people settled down for supper. Crowds were milling around in the open semicircular area before the boxes. Others were doubtless taking the air by strolling along the numerous paths that led off in different directions. Eventually he spotted a box that was empty of all except the slouching figure of his drunken friend.
"Hubbard!" he said, entering the box and taking one of the empty seats. "All alone?"
"Abandoned," his friend agreed cheerfully. "I would have stayed sober if there had been dancing, old boy, but what else was there to do during that interminable fiddling and trumpet-blowing except drink? Now I have boneless legs. Sorry about it, too. I couldn't oblige your wife by walking with her. Fetching little thing, Astor."
"Where did she go?" Lord Astor asked.
Mr. Hubbard gestured along the main path leading away from the gates. "That way," he said. "Five minutes ago. Probably closer to ten."
"The whole party is walking together?" Lord Astor asked.
"Oh, Lord, no," Mr. Hubbard said. "Let me see. First Farraday and his sister went to pay their respects to a second cousin or something remote like that. They all disappeared along that path." He pointed. "Then that large silent character—friend of Lady Astor's—went for a stroll that way with Lady Harriet. Her sister and what's-his-name, her husband, trailed along to make it all respectable, I suppose. No one else wanted to join them. Lady Astor insisted on staying to stop me drinking more and making myself ill or foolish, she said. Seemed to be under the impression that I was about to start warbling or something. Then Miss Wilson and Chariton found it imperative to set off in the same direction as the other four."
"And Arabella went with them?" Lord Astor asked after a pause had indicated that no further information was forthcoming.
"Oh, Lord, no," Mr. Hubbard said with a yawn. "She was busy chattering my head off so that I would not think about tipping back more drink. Sweet little thing, Astor. All heart."
"Where did she go then?" Lord Astor was frowning and beginning to feel a twinge of alarm.
"Fellow came by," he said. "Tall, thin, gangly. Spots."
"Er, Browning?" his friend suggested.
"Right first time," Mr. Hubbard said. "Browning. That's it. Told her he had just seen her sister. 'With Lady Harriet?' says Lady Astor. 'No,' he says, 'with Sir John Chariton.' And then he moved on."
"Yes?" Lord Astor prompted.
"Oh. Your wife got all excited about chaperones and dark alleys and whatnot," Mr. Hubbard said. "Wanted me to go with her to find them. I couldn't, Astor. Sorry, old chap. I suppose I should have. She shouldn't be running around here alone, should she? No harm, though. She will be with her sister by now and ripping up at her, no doubt." He chuckled. "She is younger than Miss Wilson, isn't she? Acting like a mother hen, she was. Where are you going, old fellow? Have a drink."
Lord Astor did not even hear him. It was worse than he had thought possible. Arabella had gone wandering off on her own. And where would he look if she had not kept to the main path? Surely she would not have wandered onto one of the darker side paths alone?
Damn Farraday for inviting her and then not looking properly to her safety. And damn Hubbard for getting drunk in the presence of ladies.
He felt a surge of relief a couple of minutes later to see a group of familiar figures approaching him on the main path. Frances was in the lead, arm-in-arm with Lady Harriet.
"My lord!" she called. "What a pleasant surprise. Bella will be delighted. Is not all this truly enchanting?"
"Where is Arabella?" he asked as he drew closer to the group.
"Oh, she stayed back at the box with Mr. Hubbard," she said. "We will have to tease her about her laziness, my lord."
"But she followed you," he said. "Is she not with you?"
"Bella came after us alone?" Theodore asked, pushing his way past the two ladies. "And Hubbard allowed it? Wherever can she be?"
"I am going to find her," Lord Astor said. "She must have turned down one of the other paths." And he hurried past the group without even hearing Theodore's worried declaration that he would search back closer to the boxes.
Lord Astor knew the impossibility of his task ev
en as he hurried on, his head swiveling from left to right to peer down paths that curved away out of sight into the darkness. She could be along any one of them. She could be ahead of him or behind him or to either side of him. And if he turned off the main path he stood almost no chance at all of finding her. He felt his heart begin to pound against his chest.
It was a sheer miracle, he decided much later, that he happened to be peering down one dark path when she came running along another one behind him. She was calling his name before he turned. She had hurled herself into his arms almost before he had opened them to receive her.
13
"Он, my lord!" Arabella cried, her arms flying up around Lord Astor's neck, her face burying itself against his chest. "It is you. Oh, thank God! I have been so very frightened."
His arms came tightly around her and held her close. "Arabella!" he said. "You are quite safe. I have you now."
"I was so frightened," she said, trying to burrow still closer.
Lord Astor looked hastily to either side of them along the path. There was a lull in the crowd of revelers for the moment, but there was a group approaching. He drew his wife off the main path onto the quieter one down which he had been looking when she came running up behind him. He drew her into the shade of a tree so that they would not be observed from the main thoroughfare.
"You are safe now, Arabella," he murmured soothingly. He opened back his cloak, drew her against him again, and wrapped it around her. She put her arms around his waist and laid a cheek against his chest. She was trembling uncontrollably. "No one is going to harm you. I have you."
She pressed herself against him, silent for a while. Her teeth were chattering. Lord Astor cupped the back of her head with one hand and held it against him.
"I was very foolish," she said. "You will be very cross with me, my lord. I was looking for Frances, you see. She had gone off with Sir John without a chaperone, and I thought they would soon catch up to Lady Harriet and Theodore. But I found out I was wrong and they were still alone together. I thought I had better go along to find them. Mr. Hubbard was unable to accompany me because his legs would not support him. I fear he is grieving for Mrs. Hubbard again. I passed two gentlemen—except that they were not gentlemen at all—and they teased me and said things that made me blush. I was so embarrassed that I did not know where to look. And Frances and Sir John had gone farther than I thought."
She drew breath at last and lifted her head away from his chest to look up into his shadowed face. Her own was eager and mobile. "I could see another group of gentlemen approaching," she said, "and I did not know what to do. I could have died of mortification. I dared not turn back because of those other two, but I could not face having to walk past this new group. So I ducked off the path onto that smaller one, and I went a little way along it so that they would not see me when they passed. That was very foolish, was it not?"
"But understandable," he said soothingly. "I should never have let you come alone, Arabella."
"When S stopped to listen to make sure they had passed," she said, her hands on his neckcloth, playing with its intricate folds, "I thought I heard something in the trees beside me. A crackling. I thought it must be a wild animal or a desperate murderer, though I am sure now that it was nothing at all. I started to hurry away from there, but I kept going farther along the path instead of coming back. It was very dark. I suddenly realized what I was doing and stopped, and then I could not move one way or the other. I have never been so terrified in my life." She buried her face against his neckcloth. She was still trembling.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice tense. "Did anyone hurt you, Arabella?"
"I finally told myself that I had to go back," she said. "I told myself that I would be safe once I reached the main path, and that once I was close I could scream if necessary. So I just took a breath and ran. I thought my heart was going to burst with beating so hard. And I wanted you more than anything in the world. And then suddenly there you were. I could scarce believe it. I thought you would turn and it would be some stranger. I am so very thankful it was you." She looked earnestly up into his face again.
"I am glad too," he said, his fingers smoothing back the soft curls at either side of her face. "You are safe now, Arabella." He lowered his head and kissed her gently and lingeringly on the lips.
She looked a little dazed when he lifted his head. "But where is Frances?" she asked. "And what are you doing here?"
"Your sister is quite respectably chaperoned," he said. "She was walking with a group of six a few minutes ago. They were on their way back to Farraday's box. I came to see that you were safe, Arabella. For your sake I am sorry I was not much sooner."
She was looking up at him, her face illuminated by the light from a lantern shining on it from the main path. He watched her expression change from bewilderment to awareness. He relaxed his hold on her as she took a half-step backward. His cloak fell back into place around him. Her eyes slipped to his neckcloth.
"I thank you, my lord," she said, "for coming to my assistance. I was really being very foolish. There was nothing to be afraid of."
"You must never walk alone in a public place, Arabella," he said. "I have told you that before."
He wished he could recall the words as soon as he had spoken them.
"Then my fear was a just punishment for my disobedience," she said. "I shall try to remember in future, my lord."
She was going away from him even though she had not moved. And he was reluctant to let her go. He reached out and laid a hand against her cheek. "I should have been here with you," he said. "I should not have passed on my responsibility to Farraday. I must look after you more carefully in future. And you were quite right to be concerned about your sister's reputation, Arabella."
She held her neck rigid, though she did not draw back from his touch.
"Come," he said, "I will take you back to the others. You will be ready for your supper. Take my arm, Arabella, and stay close."
She did as she was bidden, though she walked at his side without speaking or looking up at him. It felt as if she had withdrawn a hundred miles.
She had wanted him more than anything in the world, she had said a few minutes before, when she was still so dazed and frightened that she had forgotten that she had no feeling left for him but contempt. She had clung to him and talked to him as fast as her mouth would form the words. And she had responded to his kiss.
She was cold again now, unyielding and unforgiving. But she was hurt inside. And she needed someone to lean on, someone to look after her. He could not just shrug off his responsibility by telling both himself and her that she must accustom herself to the way he chose to live his life.
Lord Astor had the uncomfortable feeling that his life was going to have to change whether he wished it or not.
Frances smiled when she saw Arabella approach Lord Farraday's box. "There you are, Bella," she said unnecessarily. "His lordship found you. You had us all worried. Theodore has been searching all the paths close to here. Wherever did you go?"
"I merely stepped off the main pathway for a minute," Arabella said. "You must have walked past before I turned back."
"I declare I was so deep in conversation with Lady Harriet," Frances said, turning to smile brightly at the young lady beside her, "that I did not see you. I was not looking for you, of course."
Frances' emotions were being pulled two ways, and she had no leisure in which to analyze them. She had come to Vauxhall Gardens determined to ignore Theodore, to show him that there were numerous important personages—particularly gentlemen—with whom she could consort. It had been disconcerting to find him already in Lord Farraday's box, quite comfortably established with Lady Harriet Meeker and her sister and brother-in-law. Apparently he had dined with them. And though he had bowed to her and greeted her with perfect civility, he had made no move to sit by her or engage her in conversation.
She had somewhat forgotten her chagrin when Sir John Charlton chose to b
e attentive. And she had felt a stirring of excitement when he showed no desire to accompany Theodore's group on their walk, but waited until they were out of sight, gave Mr. Hubbard an assessing glance, and then suggested that after all they join the walkers. She had fully expected him to declare himself.
"What a pleasant night it is," he had said, strolling along the path and making no attempt to hurry in pursuit of the other group. "You must be very impressed with the gardens, Miss Wilson."
"Indeed I am, sir," she had assured him. "I never saw anything so enchanting in my whole life."
"Yes," he had said, "people who have spent all their lives in the country generally feel as you do. When one has traveled, of course, one sees such pleasure spots more in perspective. Vienna, Rome, Naples, Paris: they all have their own charm, you know."
"Oh, I am sure they must," she had said, looking admiringly at him.
"I am thinking of traveling again," he said, "now that all the tiresome wars seem to be at an end."
"You are?" Frances had held her breath in anticipation.
"I have some friends who have been begging me to accompany them," he had said. "I can probably grant them a year or so of my life."
"Oh," Frances had said, her heart plummeting. "I am sure it would be well worth your while, sir."
"Of course," he had said, looking sidelong at her along his nose, "there are some things in England one must be reluctant to leave behind. Perhaps I should say some persons."
"Oh." Frances had flushed and lowered her eyes so that her dark lashes fanned her cheeks.
"Perhaps I will seek out Parkland Manor as soon as I return, and find one of those persons," he had said, reaching across and covering one of her hands as it rested on his arm.
"Oh!" she had said. "Would you? Would you really wish to, sir?"
"Would I wish never to set eyes on the loveliest lady in London again?" he had said. "I suddenly find this thoroughfare quite annoyingly crowded, Miss Wilson. Shall we try one of these more peaceful side paths?"