To Pleasure a Lady

Chapter Seventeen

Can I believe Marcus when he says he loves me? Do I dare to trust in love again?

– Arabella to Fanny

Dismayingly, the pain did not relent. Nearly a full week after Marcus’s acrimonious departure, Arabella still felt the residual effects, despite her every effort to the contrary.

The weather on this Saturday afternoon was perfect-lazy and bright with sunshine-and yet a stark contrast to Arabella’s dour mood. The academy’s pupils were enjoying an outing at the Freemantle estate, some playing Pall Mall on the lawns with Roslyn, others rowing boats on the ornamental lake, supervised by Tess and Lily, and still others plucking flowers from the gardens and making wreaths to adorn their hair and bonnets under the guidance of Jane Caruthers. A sumptuous tea would follow later, held under the elm trees and presided over by Lady Freemantle.

Arabella took little pleasure in the treat, however. Instead, she withdrew to the shade of an elm, where she could nurse her melancholy in private and halfheartedly watch the frolic on the lake. When the girls began playing tag with the rowboats, splashing each other and frequently erupting in shrieks of delighted laughter, she was surprised that Tess Blanchard joined in.

Arabella roused herself from her morose thoughts long enough to smile. It was good to see Tess laughing and enjoying life for a change, since she’d been in mourning for the past two years. Before her engagement had ended with the death of her betrothed in the terrible Battle of Waterloo, no one had been more lively and high-spirited than Tess. That she was now showing some of her once customary gaiety suggested that she finally had resolved to rejoin the living.

Perhaps a quarter hour later, Tess tore herself away from the lake battle and made her way, breathless with laughter, to where Arabella sat all alone.

“I have come to recruit you to our side, Arabella,” Tess said, extending her hands down as if to pull Arabella to her feet. “We need you for reinforcements.”

Arabella returned a wan smile. “Thank you, but I have no desire to become drenched, as you are. I endured more than enough soaking last week when I chased after Sybil in an atrocious thunderstorm.”

Tess cast an amused glance over her shoulder to eye Sybil, who was primly wandering the gardens under the strict dictates of Lady Freemantle. “Your sacrifice was obviously worthwhile. Sybil’s reputation was saved along with our academy’s. Even better, she is so disquieted by the possibility of being expelled that her behavior has become perfectly angelic. I vow I don’t recognize her anymore.” Tess returned her attention to Arabella. “Come now, the sun is warm enough to dry your gown quickly. I won’t allow you to mope on such a glorious day.”

When Arabella refused to respond, Tess frowned and sank down to sit on the grass beside her. “What is wrong, dearest? You have been perfectly miserable ever since Lord Danvers left for London.”

Wincing, she looked away. It was vexing to admit how wretched she’d felt since Marcus left. She had hoped her life would return to normal, but her hopes had proved futile, since everywhere she turned, she found reminders of him. Her misery was compounded by the fact that she hadn’t heard a word from him or his solicitors in all that time.

“Perhaps I am sickening with an ague,” Arabella prevaricated.

Tess gave her a penetrating look. “Perhaps you are lovesick.”

Unable to deny the charge, she returned a humorless laugh. “Is my condition so obvious?”

“Your unhappiness is obvious, at least.” Tess’s gaze searched her face. “But are you certain it is love you feel for him, Arabella, and not just a powerful physical attraction? It isn’t merely infatuation?”

She had little doubt of her feelings for Marcus, Arabella reflected, but it would be good to talk about her dilemma with someone who could understand. Tess knew about true love, since she had been sincerely in love with her betrothed. “I believe it is love, but how does one tell?”

Her friend’s gaze grew thoughtful. “The signs are usually recognizable. When you love a man, he becomes the center of your world. You yearn to be with him, and when you are not, he is constantly on your mind. He brightens your day. His simplest touch sparks passion in you…a tender look fires a warmth in your heart. Life feels empty without him.” Tess paused. “Is that how you feel about Lord Danvers, Arabella?”

Gazing down at her clasped fingers, Arabella nodded. That was precisely how she felt about Marcus, including the emptiness. Since he’d been gone, the hollow feeling inside her chest was a relentless ache that wouldn’t go away.

“You miss him sorely, don’t you?” Tess prodded in a sympathetic tone.

“Yes.” She missed him dreadfully.

“So what do you intend to do about it?”

Arabella gave a helpless laugh. “I don’t know.”

“Do you think he might love you in return?” Tess asked.

“He claimed he does.”

Tess stared. “Lord Danvers actually told you he loves you?”

“Yes…last week, just after we returned from rescuing Sybil. But I wouldn’t believe him. I feared he was just saying so to persuade me to accept his proposal.”

Her friend hesitated. “Arabella, he doesn’t strike me as the kind of man to declare his love without meaning it. I doubt he has ever made such a confession to any other woman.”

“No, I suspect not.”

“So how did you respond to his declaration?”

She flushed at the memory. “I’m afraid I panicked. That was the moment I realized I loved him, and I was suddenly terrified. I told Marcus that I had won the wager and wouldn’t marry him. That he would be better off leaving at once.”

“So that is why he left Danvers Hall? You drove him away?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” Tess said slowly, “it is not too late to mend matters. Not if you love each other.”

The stab of panic returned to lodge in Arabella’s chest. “But that is the problem, don’t you see? I can’t be certain of his love. And even if he does love me a little now, how do I know his feelings will last? There is nothing more hurtful than loving someone and not being loved in return. I know because I have experienced it.”

Tess shook her head. “Viscount Underwood was clearly not worthy of your love, but I believe Lord Danvers is. You must think so too, or you would never have allowed your affection to go so far. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love him as much as you loved Underwood?”

“Much more.” Her love for Marcus was far stronger than her first love had ever been, which meant the devastation would be far greater if it turned out to be one-sided.

“Then perhaps you should accept his proposal,” Tess said.

Arabella sent her friend a despairing glance. “Marriage would only make any disparity worse. My mother loved my father initially, and look where their marriage ended.”

“But from everything you have told me, your parents were a terrible mismatch. You and Lord Danvers are much better suited.”

“Why do you say so?”

Tess smiled. “I have seen you together, the way you are with him. The way you look at each other. A fire lights in your eyes when you look at him, did you know?”

It was Arabella’s turn to stare.

Tess went on. “As surprised as I am to admit this, I think he could be the ideal match for you. You would always keep him challenged and interested, and he would do the same for you.”

Arabella shook her head in denial. “I cannot be sure of that.”

“No, I suppose you cannot. But we can never be sure of anything in life, Arabella. And the chance for love is worth the risk of being hurt. Do you really want to give up hope for your future because of what happened in the past?”

Twisting her fingers in her lap, Arabella looked away. Marcus had accused her of letting fear rule her, and she knew it was true; she feared being hurt again. But she was already hurting dreadfully. How could the pain be any greater than what she felt right now?

When she remained silent, Tess asked quietly, “If you could be certain he loved you, would you marry him?”

“Yes,” she finally murmured.

Tess sighed. “Well, you will have to decide for yourself, but I don’t think you will be happy without him. And I don’t think he will wait forever for you to make up your mind.” Climbing to her feet, she gazed down at Arabella, her voice softening. “I believe you should take the risk and accept his proposal, Arabella. True love is too precious to waste. I would give anything to have that chance again.”

Turning away, Tess left Arabella struggling with her warring emotions.

True love is too precious to waste. If that was so, then she would be an utter fool to let her fear of being hurt again prevent her from seeking happiness with Marcus.

Wanting privacy to settle her agitated thoughts, Arabella departed early for home before the tea even began, leaving her sisters and Tess to supervise the event. When she reached the Hall and spied a carriage bearing the Danvers crest standing in the drive, her heart leapt. Marcus had returned!

She tried to keep her eagerness under control as she drove the gig around to the stables and turned it over to a groom, yet she found herself hurrying toward the house.

Simpkin met her in the corridor to take her spencer and bonnet and to announce a visitor. “Lady Loring has called, Miss Arabella.”

Arabella froze, not certain she had heard correctly. “My mother is here?”

“Yes. I have put her in the small salon.”

She felt the color drain from her face. When she swayed dizzily, Simpkin instantly became concerned. “Are you unwell, Miss Arabella?”

“No… I am just…surprised.” Although shocked, dismayed, bewildered were more descriptive of her feelings.

To think her mother had come to call after all this time. What in heaven’s name did she want? And where had she come from? Four years ago Victoria had reportedly fled with her lover to the coast of Brittany in France, near Brest, when Britain was still at war with France. Travel was perilous and any communication between the two countries was unpredictable at best. But they’d heard nothing more about her, not even after the long war ended with Napoleon’s abdication the following year.

Her footsteps hesitant, Arabella walked slowly down the corridor to the salon and paused on the threshold to observe the familiar stranger seated on the settee.

She was unmistakably a lady, fair-haired and elegant. In looks, Victoria most resembled Roslyn, with the same golden delicacy and aristocratic bearing. And she was still quite beautiful. Even though she had borne three children and endured a scandalous widowhood, the years had been kind to her.

At the sight of her, a chaos of emotions flooded Arabella, along with a rush of painful memories. Then Victoria looked up, her expression hesitant, vulnerable…even fearful.

Reflexively, Arabella felt her hands clench with anger and bittersweet happiness. She had never forgiven her mother for abandoning her and her sisters and leaving them mired in scandal. And yet some part of her was overjoyed to see Victoria again.

Trying to remain calm, Arabella entered the room but kept her distance. When her mother simply watched her warily, she broke the taut silence. “What brings you here, Mama?”

“You, of course,” came the quiet answer. “I wanted to know how my daughters are faring.”

Arabella couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. “After four years without even a word, you suddenly care how we are faring?”

“I have always cared. It is wonderful to see you again, Arabella.” Victoria patted the seat cushion beside her. “Will you come and sit with me?”

“I prefer to stand, thank you.”

A small, sad smile twisted her mother’s mouth. “I knew you would not forgive me. I told him so.”

“Him?”

Victoria sighed. “Lord Danvers.”

Arabella’s brow furrowed. “What does he have to say to the matter?”

“He is the reason I am here. His lordship sent a ship to France this week to escort me home to England. His secretary met me in Dover yesterday, and his carriage brought me here today.”

Marcus had hunted down her mother in France? Arabella wondered, a little stunned. “Whatever for?”

“Because he has hopes that I can reconcile with my daughters. At the very least, he is determined that I explain…and apologize to you for what I did.”

Her eyes widened as she stared at her mother. “What explanation could you possibly give that would excuse abandoning your children the heartless way you did? You walked out of our lives, Mama, without even a single word of farewell, and then left us to deal with Papa’s death all alone.”

“I am so very sorry, Arabella.”

Her mouth tightened. “Isn’t it a bit late for apologies? It all happened a long time ago, so I’m not certain there is any point in even discussing it.”

Wincing, Victoria held up a hand. “Please, won’t you at least listen to my side of the tale?”

“Very well,” Arabella said finally.

“You had best sit down. It is a long story.”

Reluctantly, she moved to claim a wing chair across from the settee. Her mother searched her face for a long moment before finally saying in a low voice, “Truly, I am sorry for ruining your life, Arabella. I never meant to hurt you and Roslyn and Lilian.”

“But you did, Mama.” A savage ache tightened her throat. “More than you can imagine. We were all devastated by your leaving, especially Lily. She cried for weeks afterward.”

“I…know. I should have considered how my conduct would have affected you. I should have put my daughters first. But once I took the first step, my actions became irrevocable.”

“I don’t see how.”

Victoria bit her lower lip. “You have to understand how bitterly unhappy my marriage to your father was.”

“Oh, I understand,” Arabella responded. “How could I not after watching you and Papa fight so savagely for so many years? But your unhappiness hardly justifies adultery.”

Victoria winced again as if from a blow. “Perhaps not, but I was terribly lonely. I am sure you know that your father kept a series of mistresses.”

“I could hardly be ignorant of the fact,” Arabella said, her tone acrid.

“Charles once was discreet about his affairs, but when he began flaunting his mistresses in my face, I couldn’t bear it any longer.”

“So you took a lover because you wanted revenge.”

“It was not that simple, Arabella. I suppose I wanted revenge, but mostly I wanted…intimacy. I met Henri Vachel in London. He had come to England as a boy, after his parents were guillotined during the Terror. His mother’s family was English, so he lived with them in Surrey. Henri was so gentle and kind… After your father’s neglect, it is not surprising that I responded to him.”

When Arabella remained silent, Victoria plowed ahead doggedly. “When your father found out, he was furious about being cuckolded. It was perfectly permissible for him to make a mockery of our marriage vows but not his lady wife. Charles demanded that I leave England and never show my face again, and he threatened to kill Henri if I didn’t. I knew he would, Arabella.”

She gave a skeptical frown. “That is not what Papa told us. He said you developed a violent passion for your lover and fled to France to be with him.”

“Of course Charles would claim so, since he wished to make me the villain. But it wasn’t true. I didn’t love Henri. Not then. And I only left because your father compelled me to do so.”

Crossing her arms defensively over her chest, Arabella stared. “Papa was killed two weeks later in a duel, Mama. You could have returned to England then.”

“No, I could not,” Victoria said with regret. “Because of the war it was months before I learned I was a widow, and by then my stepbrother had guardianship of you. Lionel was so enraged with me, he refused to let me return. He vowed to withdraw his financial support for you and your sisters-to throw you out into the streets-if I didn’t keep away so that the scandal could die down. In any event…I thought you were better off without me after the disgrace I caused.”

Arabella’s resistance softened a little. Was it possible Mama hadn’t completely turned her back on her daughters after all? It was at least believable that their step-uncle had threatened to drive them from his home, since he had never wanted responsibility for them in the first place. But that did not wholly absolve her mother’s deeds. “You could have written, Mama.”

“I did. Every week for a full year. Henri used his smuggling connections to have my letters delivered from France. But I never knew what happened to them until just recently. Lionel burned them all.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Your butler, Simpkin, told Lord Danvers. Danvers questioned him quite carefully about the matter. Lionel flew into a rage each time one of my letters arrived and threw every one in the fire. If you don’t believe me, you may talk to Simpkin. He can confirm that account. Lionel hated me so much by then that he cut off all communication with me.”

That version of events had a ring of truth to it, Arabella admitted. The elderly butler and housekeeper had served her step-uncle at Danvers Hall for decades and so would have been privy to much of the late earl’s affairs.

Her thoughts whirling as chaotically as her disquieted emotions, she stared at her mother, wondering if she dared believe the rest of her tale. Had Victoria’s abandonment of her daughters truly been out of her control? Because she had been banished from England, first by her husband and then by her stepbrother? If so, then was it also possible their father had lied to them all along about Mama’s devotion to her lover?

Keenly troubled by the notion, Arabella cleared her throat, but her next question still came out hoarsely. “You said you did not love Monsieur Vachel at first. What did you mean by that?”

Victoria’s smile was less bleak this time. “Our liaison was only physical in the beginning, but my feelings for him grew over time. Henri stood by me when I had nowhere to turn. He not only offered me protection but shared my banishment, taking me to his father’s home in Brittany. Not many men would have been so caring and unselfish. In the end, I came to love him. I couldn’t help myself. I…married him eventually, Arabella. I am no longer Lady Loring. I am simply Madame Vachel. You have a stepfather.”

Arabella fell silent. It seemed strange to think of her mother as remarried. But she was more disturbed by Victoria’s other revelations. All this time she and her sisters had been lead to believe that their mother deserted them because she fell madly in love. But apparently that wasn’t true. Victoria hadn’t lost her head because of love-

Her thoughts were interrupted just then by her mother asking in a small voice, “Do you think you could ever come to forgive me, Arabella?”

Arabella looked away. She was dismayed to think she had misjudged her mother all this time. Even more dismayed to imagine what Victoria had endured these past few years. Yet the pain of losing her was still very real. All the sorrow and anger and bitterness could not instantly be healed by learning there had been extenuating circumstances that made choosing her lover over her daughters more explicable.

“I will have to think about it, Mama,” Arabella finally said.

“Of course you need time to digest what I have told you. And I will understand if you cannot find it in your heart to forgive me…if you want me to leave.” Her shoulders hunched as if braced against a blow, Victoria murmured quietly, “I will return to France for good if you wish me to.”

“I am not certain what I want.” Arabella raised her hand to her temple. “I cannot decide anything just yet. I must talk to Roslyn and Lily first.”

“I would like to see them,” Victoria said hesitantly.

Not wanting to increase her mother’s misery, she kept her voice soft when she replied. “It’s possible they may not wish to see you, Mama. Lily is very hurt, and so is Roslyn.”

“I…understand.” She twisted her fingers together helplessly. “If you choose to reach me, I will be staying at the Red Boar in Chiswick. Henri came with me to England, and we intend to remain there for a few days before traveling to Surrey. Henri wishes to see his family there.”

When her daughter didn’t reply, Victoria slowly rose to her feet and moved to the door. There she paused with her head bowed, the picture of pain. “God bless and keep you, Arabella.”

Arabella’s heart wrenched at the quiet agony in her mother’s voice, and when Victoria exited the salon without another word, she couldn’t bear it.

Jumping up from her chair, Arabella hurried after her, calling out to her. “Mama?” When Victoria halted and turned, she added softly, “I will plead your case with Roslyn and Lily and try to make them understand.”

Her smile was bittersweet. “That is all I ask.”

Watching as her mother disappeared down the corridor, Arabella remained standing there for a long while, her thoughts in turmoil, her emotions running the gamut from dismay to hope as she considered the question of forgiveness.

Certainly Victoria had made significant mistakes. But she had also been wronged by her husband and her stepbrother. And she genuinely regretted hurting her daughters.

Perhaps that was all that truly mattered. That Mama cared.

She would have to make her sisters see that, Arabella decided finally as she headed to her bedchamber to await their return.

The chance to get their mother back was too gratifying to pass up.

Lily turned stark white when Arabella broke the startling news about their mother’s presence in Chiswick, while Roslyn, after a stunned moment, grew solemn and thoughtful. But they both listened carefully as Arabella related every detail of her conversation with Victoria and argued for forgiveness.

Their ardent, highly emotional discussion lasted well into the evening. As Arabella expected, Lily was the hardest to convince, yet she seemed concerned more for Roslyn than for herself.

“Have you truly considered the ramifications, Rose?” Lily implored. “The scandal is likely to be resurrected, just when we have finally begun to live it down. It matters little to me, since I never intend to wed, but if you want to marry, then welcoming Mama back will undoubtedly hurt your prospects of making a good match.”

Roslyn nodded slowly. “Perhaps so, but I think it is a risk I must take.”

In the end, they all decided to relent. Victoria was their mother and they wanted her back in their lives, regardless of what she had done in the past, or what it might cost them in the future.

The hour was past eight o’clock by the time Arabella ordered the old Danvers carriage made ready to take them to the nearby Red Boar Inn where their mother was staying. They spoke little on the way, and when they reached the inn, Lily lagged behind. Thus, when they were shown into a private parlor, Lily was closest to the door when it slowly opened a short time later.

Victoria stood there on the threshold, as if afraid to enter. One by one, she met each of her daughters’ gazes, until Arabella broke the tense silence. “We are glad to have you back, Mama.”

With a shuddering sigh, Victoria covered her face with her hands for a moment, before reaching them out to her daughters. “Oh, my dearest girls…”

Lily gave a small sob and flung herself into Victoria’s arms. She embraced her two older daughters next, and soon they were all laughing and crying.

It was some time before Arabella realized they were not alone. A gentleman had joined them, shutting the parlor door quietly behind him.

Eventually Victoria calmed herself enough to recall her manners and introduce her new husband. Dark-haired and dark-eyed, Henri Vachel seemed a somber man, but he hovered protectively near Victoria, and Arabella liked him the better for it. He looked relieved when Victoria smiled and told him he could return to their bedchamber to allow her privacy with her daughters.

When Monsieur Vachel had withdrawn, they settled in chairs around the hearth. The tears and apologies that followed made for a poignantly emotional reunion. Victoria wanted to hear everything that had happened to them during her four-year absence, and she listened intently, not sparing herself recriminations for the difficulties her daughters had suffered because of her actions.

The conversation only became a trifle awkward, however, when Victoria brought up the subject of their futures. “Lord Danvers tells me that none of you are eager to marry.” She glanced at each of them, but her gaze lingered longest on Arabella. “I know I am to blame for your disgust of matrimony.”

Arabella managed a wry smile. “It was not solely your doing, Mama. I think Papa bears some responsibility as well.”

“I suppose your father played a large role. But I set a terrible example for you girls to follow. Still, you cannot ruin your futures because of what we did.”

Arabella’s smile faded. She had already come to that realization. She couldn’t make crucial decisions about her future based solely on what had happened in her parents’ past, or in her own.

Before she could reply, Victoria leaned forward in her chair, her expression intent. “I grievously regret the foolish choices I made, Arabella, but you have always been wiser and stronger than I. You needn’t let my circumstances prejudice your feelings about love and marriage to your detriment.”

Perhaps she was stronger than her mother, Arabella reflected, but she wasn’t so certain she was wiser. She had let fear rule her life for too long. But no more.

“You cannot judge all relationships by what happened between me and your father,” Victoria insisted. “Simply because we had a terrible marriage doesn’t mean that good ones are not possible.”

“I realize that, Mama.” She had already come to that conclusion herself.

“You can find love and happiness in marriage. I did at long last. It took me years to comprehend what a good man Henri is. Years to find true love when it was right under my nose the whole time. Perhaps true love is right under your nose as well.”

She looked at her mother keenly. “What are you saying, Mama?”

“That you have already found a good man, Arabella. Lord Danvers went to significant trouble on your behalf. He must care for you a great deal to go to such lengths. Otherwise he would never have made so determined an effort to help us reconcile.”

Indeed, Arabella reflected, Marcus had gone well beyond his obligations as her guardian, particularly when he had already agreed last week to relinquish the position as a result of their wager.

If she had wanted proof that he cared about her, she need look no further, Arabella knew. But did it mean he truly loved her as he claimed? She desperately hoped so.

“I think he does care for me,” Arabella murmured.

Victoria nodded. “And he seems to be nothing like your father. Can you imagine Charles putting himself out for anyone like that?”

No, she couldn’t imagine such a thing. Marcus was far, far different from her father.

Roslyn spoke up just then, her tone solemn. “Do you care for Lord Danvers, Arabella?”

She hesitated only a moment. “Very much.” She sent Lily an apologetic glance. “I vowed I wouldn’t let myself fall in love with him, but in the end, I discovered I never had any choice.”

Lily regarded her solemnly, clearly troubled by her admission, but Roslyn smiled. “I only want you to be happy, Arabella. If you love him, that is all that matters.”

Lily, however, didn’t agree. “That is not all that matters, Belle. You loved Underwood, and look how much he hurt you. I can’t bear to see you make the same mistake again.”

“I know,” Arabella said fondly. “But Marcus says he loves me.”

“Underwood claimed he loved you, but he didn’t. How can you be certain the earl is telling the truth?”

Arabella gave a light shrug. “I cannot be certain, so I will just have to trust him.”

Lily still wasn’t convinced. “If you marry him, he could make you miserable like Papa did Mama.”

“I am willing to risk it.”

In truth, she could do nothing else. She fervently wanted the kind of soul deep love that Tess had spoken about. The kind her mother had found in her second marriage. She thought-hoped-she could have that love with Marcus. But even if he didn’t love her, without a doubt, her life would be unbearably empty without him. She had learned that painful lesson during this past week.

“Lily…” Arabella began, wondering how she could explain her feelings. Finally, she merely smiled. “I intend to marry Marcus because I don’t want to live without him. It is as simple as that.”

The anxious look in Lily’s eyes wavered, then faded. “If that is what you truly want…”

“It is. I want it with all my heart.”

“Thank heavens,” Victoria murmured.

Arabella met her mother’s smiling gaze, then took a deep breath as she felt her bravado wavering a measure.

Marrying Marcus might not be so simple as she had made it sound. After their acrimonious parting, he might very well wish her in Hades. She had angered him profoundly by not trusting him enough to believe his declaration of love, and angered him still further by rejecting his offer of marriage so adamantly.

But she would convince him to forgive her, Arabella vowed, even if she had to grovel. She would start by admitting that he had won their wager. She would make him understand that she had come to her senses. And if Marcus loved her half as much as she loved him, he wouldn’t let her stubborn blindness stand in the way of their happiness together.