let nothing of her true thoughts show upon her face, and spread some honey upon another slice of toast for Archie.
‘Who did not call?’ asked Archie.
Arabella’s mother met her eyes over his head. The two women looked at one another.
‘Your mama’s friend,’ said Mrs Tatton. ‘Now eat up your toast, Birthday Boy, before it grows cold.’
Archie, mouth filled with toast, started to pretend two of the spoons were horses galloping across the tablecloth.
Arabella felt her cheeks heat from the deception she was weaving, but knew she had no choice. It would all be so much worse if the truth came out.
‘Perhaps if his first visit was not entirely to his satisfaction he has changed his mind over the arrangement.’ Embarrassment flushed Mrs Tatton’s cheeks as she voiced the fear that had been gnawing at Arabella.
‘Let us hope not, Mama.’ God help them if he had, for Arabella did not think she could go back to Mrs Silver’s. But the manner of their parting lent her little confidence.
A knock sounded at the door and Gemmell entered with a letter from Dominic upon a silver salver.
‘Delivered first thing, ma’am,’ he said and left again.
Arabella felt a stab of dread, wondering if it contained her congé.
Mrs Tatton looked on in anxious silence as Arabella opened the letter and scanned its contents.
‘He enquires as to my happiness with the dressmaker,’ Arabella said with relief.
‘Then all is well?’
‘It appears so, Mama.’ As Arabella read the rest of the bold script she could not keep the surprise from her voice. ‘He writes to say that he has given me the use of a carriage and a purse of money to spend so that I will not have to buy on credit using his name.’ She glanced up to meet her mother’s eyes. ‘So no one need know of our … situation.’
Her mother’s eyes widened. ‘He is either a most thoughtful gentleman, or …’ she raised a brow ‘… one who has much to lose if you are discovered.’
As far as Arabella could see Dominic had nothing to lose by her discovery. Indeed, she would have thought he would have been crowing it from the rooftops. A most thoughtful gentleman. Not a description that could ever be applied to Dominic Furneaux. Or so she had thought.
‘Much as I detest that he must pay for us …’ She glanced across at her mother’s shabby dress. ‘You and Archie are in dire need of some new clothes.’
‘We should be saving the money so that we may leave this situation as quickly as possible. Archie and I can manage just fine as we are, Arabella.’
‘Both of you have only the clothes upon your back, Mama, and nothing more. Your shoes have holes in the soles. And your hands have been paining you. His payment is generous.’ She pushed away the thought of what it was he was paying for. ‘I will ask Gemmell to organise new wardrobes for you. And I will visit the apothecary myself to fetch you something for your joints.’
Mrs Tatton worried at her lip. ‘You are sure he will not notice? About the money?’
Arabella glanced again at the letter. ‘He makes it clear he does not wish for an account of my spending.’
‘Well, I suppose in that case …’ Her mother nodded, but the furrow of worry between her brows lifted only a little.
Arabella pushed the thought of Dominic and her situation aside. There were other matters to be considered today, and she intended to apply herself fully to them. ‘Let us talk of more pleasant matters. It is a certain boy’s birthday.’ She raised her voice so that Archie would hear and looked over at her son. ‘And as a special treat I thought that we might take a trip to the park. Robert, the groom, has a little mare called Elsie. Would you like to sit up on Elsie’s back while Robert walks her around the park?’
‘Oh, yes, please!’ Archie’s eyes were wide with delight and he slipped down from his chair and started to gallop around in excitement. ‘Can we leave right now?’
‘We had best get ourselves ready first!’ Arabella laughed.
‘Are you sure about this, Arabella?’ Mrs Tatton asked.
‘It is still early, Mama. There should be few enough people about to notice us; even if they do, there is nothing to associate us with this house or its master.’
Archie paused as he galloped past the mantel piece to stroke a hand against the ribbons that Arabella had festooned there. She smiled at the pleasure on his face and knew that the decorations had been worth it, even if she would have to take them down and hide them away just in case Dominic arrived.
‘And remember that we are to have a special birthday lunch,’ said Mrs Tatton. ‘Cook is making a cherry cake and lemonade and some biscuits too.’
‘Hurrah!’ shouted Archie. ‘I love birthdays.’
Gemmell came in to organise the clearing of the breakfast plates. ‘And how old are you today, young master Archie?’ he asked.
‘I am a grown up boy of five years old,’ said Archie with pride.
‘That is very grown-up indeed,’ agreed Gemmell with a smile and gave the little boy the small wooden figure of a horse that he had carved.
And the maid, Alice, chucked Archie under the chin and gave him a packet of barley-sugar twists that she had made herself and knew to be his favourites.
Arabella felt her heart swell at their kindness. ‘Thank you,’ she said with meaning. ‘You are very kind to us.’ And today all the shadows of the past and the present seemed very far away. Today they were a proper family—Archie, her mother, Arabella and all of the servants.
Dominic read the card in his hand and knew there was no way he could refuse Prinny’s invitation without delivering the prince a monumental insult. How recently a night of drunken revelry and fireworks in Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens would have held appeal for Dominic. Now it did not. He wondered how little time he might need stay there before he could slip away.
He thought of Arabella sitting alone at her needlework in Curzon Street. And he felt that same surge of desire for her that he had always felt. He burned for her, just as he knew he could not take her. It was an absurd situation of his own creation. An insolvable paradox that tortured him more with each passing day. His brain told him that he should go round to Curzon Street right now and ease the ache in his loins upon her, to ride her as he had done in Mrs Silver’s. But even the memory of what had happened in that place soured his stomach. And in his heart he knew that he could not do it. Even if she had been ridden by a thousand men before him.
He glanced again at the card, Vauxhall and its masked carnival, and an audacious idea popped into his head. An idea that was both daring and ridiculous. To be with her was a torture, but he craved it all the same. The carnival might be easier than being alone with her in a house he was paying for, with a bed too easily within reach. The thought of having Arabella by his side seemed to make the prospect of Vauxhall much more palatable. He slipped the card into his pocket. It would require another visit to Curzon Street.
Just
