An Accidental Affair Page 3

  He was stunned that she’d correctly guessed who he was waiting for. Merrick hadn’t thought she ever paid attention to him. A meeting with Lady Harrison mattered little when compared to merely kissing Arabella. “I will find her later.”

  “She might have retired upstairs for a short time,” Arabella said. “She’s rather proud of her riding-crop collection and invited Lord Parker to view it. I did consider asking to go along with them, but my interest in horses is fleeting at best. Have you seen them?”

  Merrick gaped at the primmest woman he knew. Had Arabella really believed that Louisa was speaking of riding actual horses? She couldn’t be that naive. He chose his next words with care just to see how she answered. “I’ve no interest in inflicting pain on my mounts.”

  Her face twisted into a puzzled frown. “But you ride every day. I have seen you at it and always with a riding crop in your hand.”

  Oh, dear God. He rubbed a hand across his face to hide his astonishment. She truly had no idea what the conversation had been about. “Not like that.”

  “Oh,” she said at last, but Merrick wasn’t at all convinced that she had the faintest idea how and where Louisa applied her riding crops. He certainly wasn’t going to tell her that Louisa liked to dominate her lovers in the bedroom. That was not a conversation he wanted to have with Arabella on any day. He might have to explain then how he knew and why, on occasion, the experience to be on the receiving end could be thrilling.

  She fiddled with the tassel on her sleeve. “I should go and find my niece. I would appreciate you refraining from mentioning I was in search of her.”

  “Yes, your troublesome niece.” Merrick was not at all impressed with the way that girl behaved when unchaperoned, which appeared to be every chance she could get. “Of course. I’m not one for adding to gossip. Go find her before she truly gets into trouble.”

  Lady Cecily was swiftly building her own reputation as a hoyden. She would ruin herself if she didn’t exercise more care, and she would drag Lady Farnsworth’s good name down with her.

  “She’s really very lovely,” Arabella said firmly, although Merrick thought her words lacked a degree of conviction, as if they were well rehearsed.

  He didn’t answer but raised a brow, daring her to say something unflattering. It would be the first time ever to his knowledge.

  When Arabella instead turned decisively for the key in the door, Merrick pressed his hand back to the door to hold it closed a little longer. He eased close to her one last time and inhaled the subtle fragrance that clung to her. Roses had never smelled as sweet. “Thank you for the kiss.”

  Her eyes met his over her shoulder, her expression one of utter astonishment. “Oh, no. Thank you, Rothwell. Thank you very much.”

  ~ * ~

  Arabella stumbled into the hall on legs of wet clay and attempted to appear unruffled by her private encounter with Lord Rothwell. The man could kiss a woman so well she practically melted into a puddle at his feet. Arabella desperately needed a moment to gather her thoughts and to understand what had just happened between them. How could that man kiss her so soundly and yet have been waiting for Lady Harrison to join him instead?

  And he’d thanked her for one kiss!

  She snapped her fan open and created a cooling breeze across her face. She was sure her cheeks must be bright red from the excitement and delightful shock of his attention. Part of her wished she could go back and let him continue with everything else that kiss had promised. Yet the other half, the sensible and rational half, whispered its terror that she might never get enough and would make a fool of herself over the rogue.

  If not for Cecily needing to be found, she might still be in Rothwell’s arms and happy to remain there. If that was how most men behaved when alone with a widow, she was terrified of what the somewhat bolder Cecily might allow when faced with another man of similar skill. That girl had no idea how close to scandal she skirted or what that would mean for others if she were ruined and discarded. It would be a catastrophe.

  Properly panicked by how easily she’d forgotten her responsibilities while in Rothwell’s arms, Arabella glided back into the ballroom, hoping to appear unruffled, and glanced around carefully. The whole room wasn’t staring at her, but she feared at any moment they would turn and ask her if she agreed with the gossip about Rothwell’s appeal to women. There was no way she could deny it now.

  She followed a footman through the crowd, skirting along the side bordering the terrace door in search of a cooling breeze along with her niece. She caught her gown in her hands as she spied the exact color of Cecily’s peach muslin gown flittering away from her. She followed Cecily as quickly as she could, rather glad that the direction would take her away from Lord Rothwell. After experiencing his kiss, his presence would be unbearable now.

  She inched through the crowded ballroom, apologizing profusely as she squeezed past revelers; however, there was no sign of Cecily on the dance floor or trapped near the wall by one of the groups milling about, which meant that her niece had successfully slipped out of the ballroom, most likely through the open terrace door ahead. Farnsworth would be livid when he found out she’d courted scandal and would likely blame Arabella yet again for his daughter’s exasperating behavior.

  Arabella gained the terrace and peered into the darkened corners in search of Cecily. Not a shape could be seen in the shadows of the garden’s shrubbery, which was lit by the waning moon above. But then she caught a whispered word, just beneath the volume of the ball taking place behind her. A trickle of dread caressed her spine and she eased further along the terrace until she’d left the safety of candlelight spilling from the ballroom. She stopped in a patch of deep shadow with her breath held and waited.

  When her eyes had adjusted to the gloom, she detected a couple, a tall man and a woman of slight build, standing below her on the lawn beside a garden statue. The couple also appeared to be kissing very passionately.

  She squinted at them, praying her first suspicion was wrong. Her niece would not be so easily led astray, yet it might just be Cecily. Although the fellow below needed to bend considerably to kiss the woman, he was very tall, lean, and the gold buttons of his coat shone brightly. He reminded Arabella of a stork. She groaned. Lieutenant Laurence Ford, one of Rothwell’s cousins, in fact, fit that description and had been flirting with Cecily since they’d first met nearly two months ago.

  Arabella drew in a deep breath, ready to descend and break the would-be lovers apart, but a firm hand curled over her gloved arm and held her still.

  “Stay here,” Lord Rothwell said quietly, appearing at her side as if from thin air. His touch slid down her arm in a slow caress and he squeezed her hand briefly. “I’ll send her back to you.”

  At a loss for words, Arabella stared at him. The sensations he’d stirred in her during their kiss returned, but gaining Lord Rothwell’s assistance to avoid scandal was the last thing she’d counted on. Before she could assure him that assistance was unnecessary, he was gone, rushing down the stairs, separating the lovers by force, speaking harshly to them both. Although she strained, she could hear none of Rothwell’s remarks clearly. But given the tone and the way the lieutenant drew back, Rothwell had clearly made a good argument for a return to decorum.

  Cecily persisted, however, and stepped toward Lieutenant Ford again. The young man shook his head and backed up several steps.

  “Return to your aunt before you cause her even more embarrassment than your current behavior has,” Rothwell urged in a louder, clearer voice. He turned on his cousin. “And you, Aunt Pen is here, you fool. Do you really want everyone to hear her opinion on your behavior tonight?”

  Lieutenant Ford’s shoulders sagged in defeat. It seemed there were more people besides Arabella eager to remain on Lady Penelope Ford’s good side. Even grown members of her family seemed intimidated. Arabella thought Lieutenant Ford very sensible at that moment.

  For a few perilous seconds, Cecily held her ground, but then her n
iece fled back toward the terrace where Arabella waited. Cecily’s face was a mask of mutinous fury, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. The girl stopped a few paces away. “Do you have any idea what your meddling has ruined?”

  “Cecily, please. Your father demands…”

  “Don’t you dare speak to me again tonight. You’re just like Father. I will never get to have any fun or have a say in my life if you support him and not me. It isn’t fair.” Then, with a noticeable effort, Arabella’s niece drew in a shuddering breath and calmed her temper. Cecily smiled serenely, turned on her heel, and strolled to the ballroom, pausing in the doorway a moment before gliding through as if she had not just been caught acting inappropriately.

  Arabella glanced at Rothwell where he stood with Lieutenant Ford on the lawn and remembered their earlier conversation. Rothwell had been adamant that Cecily would never be with him, which Arabella feared meant he knew something unpleasant about the girl and meant to avoid being linked to Cecily at all costs. She winced. She didn’t know what to do about her niece’s shocking behavior. She seemed completely without remorse for the scandal she was courting.

  Arabella wanted to give Cecily the benefit of the doubt, hoping she’d misjudged the girl’s nature. She would pay more attention to the girl and relegate her own hopes for a lover this season to a date well past Cecily’s wedding. The girl desperately needed her guidance and a firmer hand if she wanted to make a good match.

  Curiosity propelled her down the steps toward Lieutenant Ford and Lord Rothwell. She needed to know how bad her niece’s behavior had become in order to correct it. Arabella wanted to know just how many times Lieutenant Ford had snuck away with Cecily to be so enamored of the girl.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Merrick set his hands to his hips and glared at his young cousin. “Touch her again without having spoken to her father first about a marriage and we will not meet so civilly. You cannot behave in such a manner without considering the consequences for both of you.”

  “I love her,” Laurence protested passionately.

  He took his cousin’s measure. His time at sea, exposed to the elements and a harsher way of living, had hardened Laurence’s features somewhat. But given his protestation of devotion to Lady Cecily, he was still an exuberant young man and had much to learn about thinking before acting on his passions. “You’re the right age to spout that nonsense and yet still too foolish to understand what it means. Go back inside, stay away from the girl, and do not dishonor her family or yours with this nonsense until you’re at least a half dozen years older.” Merrick scrubbed a hand through his hair. He had little patience for the Fords right now.

  Laurence glanced toward the terrace with an expression reminiscent of a scolded puppy, wide brown eyes pleading to be forgiven. Merrick turned his head and saw Arabella had remained. Laurence made to approach her, yet Merrick could not allow that. He pushed his cousin toward the side of the house. “Go that way, you fool, and do not be seen returning to the ball.”

  The puppyish eyes turned on him. “Please, coz. Let me explain myself.”

  He’d had some idea that Lady Farnsworth’s niece and his cousin were moving beyond harmless flirtation before tonight and had meant to warn off his cousin from making a foolish choice. If he hadn’t followed Arabella discreetly, he would never have stumbled upon the truth of just how far Laurence had fallen under the minx’s spell. He’d placed his commission in jeopardy with this foolishness. Given what Merrick had discovered of Cecily, the family would never support a match to such a girl.

  “Not a chance.” He gave his cousin a harder shove that sent him on his way to the side door. “Now off with you.”

  Once Laurence was out of sight, Merrick faced with trepidation the dazzling beauty waiting at the base of the steps. Damn the Fords and their troublesome natures. Coming so soon on the heels of their accidental kiss, he wasn’t sure what Arabella would say to him. She would have every right to be furious if the girl was ruined and no marriage proposal came of it.

  Yet when he had determined her intent to break up the lovers, he had not been able to abandon her to the task alone. That ungrateful niece of hers might pretend to be proper when society was watching, but she was beyond the pale when it came to men. Lady Cecily was hell-bent on her wild rebellion. He didn’t know what Laurence was thinking to court such a scandal-loving girl. He supposed it was for the money to be found in her dowry. Little could be said for her connections, save for the pleasure of Arabella’s company.

  Merrick started back the way he’d come, fighting to return his pulse to normal before he spoke with Arabella. Laurence was a fool. A man in love did not maul an innocent girl in a dark garden, even if stridently encouraged to do so. He treated her as if she were precious and with the utmost respect. The girl was encouraging her own ruin and Laurence was likely a means to an end.

  He stopped three steps away from Arabella, maintaining a discreet, respectable distance. She was so beautiful that his heart skipped a beat. He barely believed she’d been in his arms, even unwittingly. He was ashamed to have acted so rashly. “He won’t bother her again, I give you my word.”

  The pale wisps of hair peeking from beneath her turban appeared as a glow about her soft skin like a halo of an ethereal siren. “Thank you. I am very much obliged to you.”

  “My pleasure, my lady.” After a long moment of silence, he wrenched his gaze from her and checked the terrace to see that they remained observed together. Thankfully there was no harm done so far. “You should return to the ballroom,” he murmured gently.

  “Wait.” She moved closer a step. When she stopped, he found it pleasant, despite the frown that had appeared, to look into a face that matched his in height. Arabella was quite tall compared to most women and very lovely. It was a shame his rash act had revealed he was still the rogue society thought him to be.

  “I am sorry for any trouble my niece may cause between you and your cousin,” she said suddenly.

  He shrugged away her concern, noticing she didn’t appear at all put out with him. “Hardly a day goes by when someone in the family isn’t irritated with the other. The difficulty will amount to nothing. Laurence is to return to his ship next week and will likely return to action soon after. I’m sure if their affections are merely infatuation, they will pass soon enough.”

  “So soon? I will pray for his safe return,” she whispered.

  Merrick drank in her beauty and good nature for a long, selfish moment. A woman of her character would not choose to be with him unless forced to. If anyone learned of their kiss, she would be cast in an altogether unflattering light. She likely knew being in his company for any length of time might tarnish her reputation and should draw away, but for the moment it seemed she had forgotten. It was nice to stand before a proper woman without caution shadowing her eyes.

  But the moment could only be fleeting. The impulses of youthful exuberance and excess of living were a part of his history that he could never shake. Everyone had expected him to live up to his father’s reputation as a scoundrel, and he had to a small degree. Only now was he regretting that his behavior made it likely he would never have a chance with a woman like Arabella. He steeled himself to return to his admiration from afar and think of her reputation first. “After you. Please.”

  She stared at him a long moment before she dipped a perfect curtsey and then hurried up the steps and disappeared into the ballroom without a backward glance. Her poise was something he admired, along with the sway of her long body when she moved. Quite mesmerizing, really. The woman had to be almost as tall as he was—her legs would likely go on forever. He halted at the railing and faced the dark gardens, struggling to reorder his thoughts and baser impulses. Thinking of her like that was hopeless. He would wait a decently long time before he rejoined the ball, long enough that his return might never be linked to hers.

  “There you are.” The exasperated admonishment broke the quiet and got his hackles up. If he was not mistaken, his aunt, Lady Penelo
pe Ford, had come to deliver her usual scold. “What are you doing out here, young man?”

  He glanced over his shoulder as anger swept through him. His Aunt Pen saw everything but rarely understood, and would not miss a chance to meddle in his affairs. Thank God she knew nothing of his plans to secure a wife. If she did, she would not hesitate to push any and every properly connected, buttoned-up debutante in his direction with the hopes of reforming him completely. That wasn’t the sort of wife Merrick had in mind. He didn’t want to change that much when he married. “Enjoying the fresh air in solitude until now. You?”

  Her lips turned up, but he knew better than to trust her smiles. “I thought to ensure scandal might be avoided, but I see my fears were unnecessary.”

  He tensed at her words. Could a man ever spend one night in society without even his family thinking the worst of him? It was too much. She would never believe he was out here to prevent Laurence, the baby of the Ford family, from being foolish. “Is that so?”

  Her smile dimmed at his clipped response. Once, they had been on intimate terms: Aunty Pen and little Merrick. But that was many years ago, and he was no longer a child and ignorant of his aunt’s manipulative nature.

  “You can cease your ridiculous coldness.” Her gloved fingers slid over his arm and squeezed. “We are family, whether you wish to acknowledge it or not, and that makes your happiness my concern.”

  He stared at her hand and when she didn’t release him, he dug deep for an insult sure to send her away. Merrick would prefer to deliver an original barb than rehash a previous accusation, but unfortunately, his mind was blank. His aunt was as unfeeling as one could be and still breathe. She hadn’t a shred of compassion in her blood, but he’d accused her of that many times in many different ways. “I would prefer you stay out of my life altogether. What I do, or do not do, is my business.”