to it—and yet she had an odd feeling of having lost something as she was driven away.
Charles saw the carriage leaving. Had he come down a few minutes earlier he might have spoken to her again, apologised for his coolness that morning. He was aware that he had much to thank her for and she did not deserve to be treated so harshly. Yet he could not allow himself to like her too much. His life must be dedicated to finding Sarah. The guilt and fear nagged at him, mingling with the anger. Sarah was all that mattered now. Besides, he knew that he was incapable of loving a woman—especially one as beautiful and warm as Lady Arabella. She deserved passion and spirit, not the broken shell of the man he had become.
It was better that she had gone without time for another meeting between them. The memory of soft hands and sweet words soothing him would pass. He would not allow himself to remember how comforted she had made him feel—or the hurt look in her eyes when he had told her that he no longer needed her help.
‘Arabella dearest! I was beginning to worry about you,’ Lady Hester Tate said as her niece walked into the elegant parlour of her London house that afternoon. ‘Tilda has been fretting—she did not like to leave you alone with only your maid to protect you.’
Arabella’s laughter was warm and delightful. ‘I do hope she did not upset you, Aunt Hester? I assure you I was perfectly safe.’
‘She seemed to think you were in some mortal danger, though she would not tell me exactly what,’ Lady Tate said and frowned. ‘I do not know how you put up with her, my dear. She is such a fusspot.’
‘Yes, she is rather,’ Arabella said, smothering a sigh. ‘But she has so little to live on, Aunt. I should feel awful if I told her I did not need her any longer—though I must admit that she tries my patience at times. Where is she at this moment?’
‘Oh, I sent her on an errand,’ Lady Tate said, pulling a little face. ‘She is useful in many ways, Arabella. I had some packages that needed to be delivered to a friend—and my library book had to be returned. I could have sent a servant with the packages, of course, but Tilda likes to feel helpful.’
‘Yes, she does,’ Arabella said. She bent to kiss her aunt’s cheek. Lady Tate was a small, slightly plump lady who had once been considered a great beauty but was now showing signs of fragility, her skin papery soft. ‘How are you? When you wrote to me last, you had had a chill, I think?’
‘Oh, I am much recovered,’ her aunt said, her eyes avoiding looking directly at Arabella. ‘I am well enough in myself—but Ralph worries me. He has been behaving oddly recently and I think he may be in debt again. He is such a terrible gambler. Takes after his father, of course, and never listens to anything I say.’ Lady Tate’s expression was a mixture of anxiety and annoyance. ‘Goodness knows what he does with his own money!’
‘I am sorry to hear that he has made you anxious,’ Arabella said. ‘He really should learn to stay away from the card tables. He cannot expect you to rescue him from his folly again.’
‘No, indeed, I have told him that I can give him no more than a hundred guineas,’ Lady Tate said. ‘He says it is not enough, but I cannot spare more, Arabella. I have my jointure and a few jewels my father bought me—but he has sold the Tate heirlooms himself.’
‘Oh, no, has he?’ Arabella felt a slight unease. ‘That was not well done of Ralph, Aunt. Do you know if he has run up claims on the Northampton estate?’
‘I would not care if he has,’ her aunt replied. ‘I hate Tatton Court. It is an awful old place and would cost a fortune to make it comfortable. So he may gamble that away if he pleases—but I have told him that Haverhill House is not his to hazard. It belonged to my family and remains mine until I die. I have made a will passing it to my grandchildren, Arabella. Failing them, it will come to you, my dear. Ralph does not know that, but I have instructed my lawyers that he is not to have the right to sell it. He would not like it if he knew, but he would lose everything we have if I did not take some precautions.’
‘Yes, I see.’ Arabella thought that her cousin would be furious if he knew what his mother had done, but kept her own counsel. Aunt Hester might complain of her son sometimes, but she thought the world of him and would not like to be told the harsh truth, which was that Sir Ralph Tate cared for nothing but himself. ‘Well, you must do as you think best, dearest. Now tell me, do we dine alone this evening?’
‘As it happens we have an engagement. I left your first two evenings free, Arabella, so that we might be comfortable together, but you did not come when I expected you, and we are engaged this evening to a great friend of mine—Lady Samson. She is to give a little musical affair, my dear. Nothing exciting, but you know how it is. Most of the ton have gone to the country or Brighton for the summer.’ She glanced at her niece. ‘I could go alone this evening if you are too tired?’
‘I am not in the least tired,’ Arabella said. ‘A musical evening will be very pleasant. I shall enjoy it, I am sure.’
‘Yes, well, I think you will. Lady Samson’s niece Melinda is in town for a visit and I seem to recall that you rather like her?’
‘Yes, I do. It will be pleasant to see Melinda again. I have not seen her since her wedding last year.’
‘When dear Sammy told me she was here I thought it was the very thing. It was kind of you to visit me, Arabella, but I shan’t keep you tied to my apron strings. You are still young and you need young company. I believe Melinda’s brother-in-law is in town too. Captain Hernshaw is a very pleasant gentleman. I believe he has just resigned his commission in favour of a political position. Do you happen to know him at all?’
Arabella glanced at her aunt suspiciously. She was wearing an innocent face, but she was well aware that Lady Tate thought that it was time Arabella married again. Indeed, most of her friends had hinted as much, but Arabella had ignored the subtle pressure from those she believed meant well. She had known true love and would not settle for less. Since she thought it unlikely that she would ever find another man who would make her thrill to his smiles as Ben had, she had put all thought of marriage from her mind. Besides, loving made one vulnerable and she had suffered dreadfully after Ben was killed. She did not wish to be hurt that way ever again.
‘I believe we may have met at Melinda’s wedding,’ she said in answer to her aunt’s question. ‘But I cannot say that I know him.’
‘I imagine he may put in an appearance this evening,’ Lady Tate said and wrinkled her brow. ‘Though you can never be sure what a gentleman will do—they are such inconstant creatures, are they not?’
‘Perhaps,’ Arabella agreed. ‘Some gentlemen are changeable, I believe.’ For a moment her thoughts returned to the man she had left behind at the inn earlier that day. Charles Hunter was a man of moods, but she believed that he had some secret sorrow that preyed upon his mind. Something about him had touched her from the moment when he had seemed rude in the first inn’s parlour, and caring for him while he lay ill had made her very aware of tenderness towards him. Not that it was more than she would feel for any man in extremity! But she had been drawn to him. However, he had made his feelings plain and she must put all thought of him aside. Mr Hunter had shown her that he did not wish for her attentions! Should they meet again, he would deserve it if she gave him the cut direct.
Arabella was wearing a deep emerald-green silk gown when she walked into Lady Samson’s large drawing room that evening. It was fashioned in such a way that it seemed to swathe her slender figure in soft folds, causing more than one head to turn
