style="font-size:15px;"> ‘Oh, don’t worry. I’m leaving. I’m quite particular about the company I keep. Thank goodness Lydia was saved from seeing this appalling display.’
She gave Rosie another disapproving look and swept out of the room, her exit watched by every one of the assembled guests.
‘I think our guests are in need of a drink somewhat stronger than tea,’ Alexander announced, and signalled to the servants, who began pouring glasses of port.
Conversation instantly erupted in the room, but it was no longer the murmur of polite chatter. The assembled guests were talking loudly, all at once, and judging from the repeated glances in Rosie’s direction they were all speculating on what had just happened.
Alexander leaned down and whispered in her ear. ‘Would you like to take some air, Arabella?’
She nodded rapidly. She most certainly did want to escape. The last thing she felt like doing was remaining in the drawing room while a group of gossiping lords and ladies discussed that bizarre outburst.
Rosie had been snubbed by some of New York’s finest snobs, and she had smiled through every subtle and not so subtle insult. But she was decidedly shaken by Lady Beaufort’s outburst.
Why this woman should hate her was unfathomable. Surely being a banker’s daughter was not so shameful? Particularly when that banker was one of America’s wealthiest men and therefore, by extension, one of the world’s wealthiest men. And why was Lady Beaufort so concerned about her daughter not being exposed to someone like Arabella? And why should she care whether she married Alexander?
This was clearly more than just good old-fashioned snobbery.
Alexander led Arabella out through the drawing room towards the French doors. Voices fell silent as they passed, and each guest turned and attentively followed their progress as they walked across the room. He’d leave his guests to their gossip and speculation, and he was sure there would be an excessive amount of that. All that was important was to get Arabella away from the wagging tongues.
As he closed the doors behind them every gleeful face turned in their direction, all eyes peering out of the large sash windows with insatiable curiosity.
He exhaled with impatience. No doubt talking about that incident would keep them entertained for many weeks to come. It was a pity they did not have more to occupy their time, but with wealth and a multitude of servants came plenty of free hours to gossip.
For once Alexander was grateful that he had such an enormous task ahead of him in saving the estate.
They walked down some stone stairs and across a gravel pathway to a wooden bench in front of the garden.
Arabella seated herself, then looked back over her shoulder at the house. ‘Well, that was certainly strange.’
‘Strange’ was an understatement. Alexander gazed at her, amazed at her composure. But her lack of distress was neither here nor there. She should not have been exposed to Lady Beaufort’s wrath.
Alexander had difficulty understanding why his mother had invited her to an event such as this. It was inevitable that Lady Beaufort would be offended by the possibility of Alexander being betrothed to another woman when he had once been betrothed to Lady Beaufort’s daughter.
He could only assume his mother had invited her because Lady Beaufort remained a doyen of society, despite Lydia’s fall from grace, and it would be thought a folly to slight her. But whatever his illogical mother had been thinking she had caused upset to Arabella, and that was unacceptable.
The American heiress had done nothing to deserve such treatment. She had been set up for a marriage she didn’t want by her father and his mother, and invited into this house under false pretences. And now she had been insulted by one of the guests.
Alexander was unsure why he felt such a strong need to protect her—whether it was just a natural instinct or something stronger. Whatever it was, he did not want her subjected to such outrages again.
‘I’m sorry. I hope you are not too distressed by Lady Beaufort’s rudeness. Unfortunately she has suffered some major disappointments in her life, and that has turned her into a rather unpleasant woman. But she had no right to take it out on you.’
Arabella shook her head. ‘That’s usually the way, isn’t it? When people are unhappy they tend to lash out. And, no, of course I’m not upset.’ She looked over her shoulder at the house. ‘I’m a bit confused, but not upset.’
Alexander shook his head, dragged in a long, unsteady breath and tried not to think of what had caused that outburst. He did not want to think of how he had been betrayed by Lydia Beaufort, or of how she had caused him so much pain that he had sworn that he would never allow himself to be hurt like that again.
‘Lady Beaufort’s daughter Lydia was a lovely young woman and we were betrothed to be married.’
Arabella’s eyes grew wide. He obviously had her full attention.
‘But you are not any more?’ she asked, her voice barely audible.
‘No, not any more. Lydia...’ He dragged in a deep breath. ‘Lydia changed. She did things that caused her to be shunned from society.’
He paused again. Arabella did not need to know the full extent of why Lydia had suffered such a fate. Nor did she need to know how she had almost destroyed him in the process. She merely needed an explanation for Lady Beaufort’s outburst.
‘Her family is one of the best-connected in England, but even that couldn’t save her when she chose to live a life that has shocked many people,’ he said, hoping that would suffice.
‘And Lady Beaufort blames you for this?’
He exhaled a ragged breath and nodded. ‘Yes—but she has no right to blame you.’
‘I’m sorry, Alexander. Is this something you’d rather not talk about?’
He shook his head. ‘It is of no matter,’ he said, with as much nonchalance as he could muster. ‘I’m used to being on the receiving end of Lady Beaufort’s misdirected rage. But you should never have been subjected to it, and I am truly sorry. If I had known she would behave like that towards you I would have insisted my mother not invite her.’
Arabella shrugged. ‘You’ve got nothing to apologise for. And I can’t really criticise anyone’s bad behaviour—not after my somewhat unconventional arrival. At least your mother was standing right next to me. She could see that it wasn’t my fault that the teacup was shattered. I wouldn’t want her to think breaking porcelain is my special party trick.’ She gave a little laugh and patted him on the arm. ‘Let’s just forget about that horrible Lady Beaufort and pretend it never happened.’
Alexander could hardly believe it. He should be comforting her; instead she was patting his arm in a reassuring manner and making light of the incident. She really was quite remarkable. An experience like that would have had most woman reaching for the smelling salts, but she was completely calm. He wondered what had given this young woman such resilience—something usually
