An Accidental Affair Page 5

  Farnsworth pursed his lips. “You may be correct. We should be of one mind on this to ensure our mutual felicity. I never could say no to you, as my brother likely could not. It should not surprise you that Lord Parker has expressed an interest in an alliance with our family, and I consider the match an advantageous one.”

  “Parker?” Arabella sank into the nearest chair as dismay smothered her. She had thought Parker more interested in her, not Cecily. How could she have been so wrong? Parker surely wouldn’t want Cecily. “But he’s so much older.”

  Farnsworth turned, his face creased into a puzzled frown. “The gap in ages is less than it was between my late brother and yourself. A very sensible match.”

  His response in no way comforted her. A twenty-year gap was not conducive to a happy marriage unless there were strong ties of affection. Cecily had met Parker several times that Arabella could recall, and she had detected no partiality on either side. Her niece had preferred to bestow her attention on prettier, younger gentlemen.

  Farnsworth resettled behind his desk, leaning back as if his problems were already behind him. “Parker needs a wife of excellent breeding, well versed in the duties of a hostess, and one with energy and beauty to hang on his arm. He has impressed me with his enthusiasm for marriage.”

  Cecily would have almost the same marriage as Arabella had lived. She wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy. Women always had little choice in whom they married but still, her heart begged her to persuade him to reconsider the match. In time, the coldness and lack of affection would eat into Cecily’s soul until she was left a barren husk. Arabella had only found a measure of contentment after she’d been widowed. She’d been able to establish her own friendships and in some respects could be considered happy with her life. Even dealing with Cecily’s wild antics was better than her married life had been. “Are you sure about this? Shouldn’t we…”

  Farnsworth waved his hands to halt her questions. “It’s decided. Reconcile yourself to this marriage so you may make plans for your change of location without distraction.”

  She stared at her brother-in-law. The offhand remark about her leaving thrilled her. “Am I to return to Wiltshire?”

  “I doubt it. You’ve endured the season quite well, but clearly your mind has not been fully on the task at hand. Why, even Lady Penelope Ford remarked on your performance as a chaperone just last evening. She suggested a sojourn in new surroundings was exactly what you needed, and I quite agree with her thinking.”

  Her palms grew damp. She prayed he’d not presumed her invited to stay as a guest of Lady Penelope Ford’s and had said so out loud. He would have made a fool of them both. “What do you mean?”

  “Depending on Lord Parker’s plans, you will come to Hinkley Park after Cecily is off my hands.” Farnsworth resumed his pacing, hands clasped behind his back. “Of course, I would expect you to act as my hostess on occasion and run the house again as you once did for my brother. You have not been back of your own accord since my wife died, have you?”

  “No.” Ants crawled over her skin at the thought of going back to Hinkley. “There never seemed to be a need since Cecily returned to school so soon after.”

  When Cecily married, there would be no one else at Hinkley Park but herself and her brother-in-law. There was no dower house to claim and even if there was, she doubted Farnsworth would endure the expense of the additional servants required to maintain it. She would be as trapped as she had been during her marriage. Arabella had no wish for such a retiring life. She had to prevent this. “I cannot imagine why Lady Penelope would take such an interest in me. I am perfectly happy in Wiltshire.”

  “The Wiltshire property is superfluous to my needs, and I intend to sell it.”

  “No, please.” Panic assailed her. “I will buy Winslette House. I don’t want to live anywhere else. Please do not make any hasty decisions.”

  Farnsworth laughed immediately. “My dear, you could never afford to buy or manage such a property. Lord Parker has no interest in the Wiltshire estate, so I have already spoken to several gentlemen about the matter. I am sure it will be snapped up in no time. Think no more of Wiltshire. You are done with that locale.”

  He dismissed her desire for Wiltshire as if she hadn’t spoken, another indication that her future was fast slipping from her control. She pressed her fingertips to her temple. Why was Farnsworth so set on what Lord Parker wanted? There were many more equally acceptable gentlemen in London. Surely Cecily wasn’t disagreeable to all.

  Farnsworth tapped his finger to the tabletop, recalling her attention to him. “I’ll be at my club tonight, but tomorrow I am sure we can expect Lord Parker to call. I’ll speak to him tonight, in fact, to ensure he does. Please stress to Cecily the importance of pleasing her future husband. There will be no Lieutenant Ford in her future.”

  Arabella’s mind raced. Had the lieutenant done what Rothwell had demanded of him and come to call? Had he proposed marriage rather than meet in secret again? If that were so, he had come too late to do any good, but Arabella’s opinion of Lieutenant Ford rose considerably. His intentions could be honorable after all.

  Farnsworth snapped open a newssheet, signaling their interview was at an end. Although she’d like nothing better than to argue for Cecily’s freedom, Arabella stood and walked out slowly, mind racing. Being packed off to Surrey was disagreeable in the extreme. She had vowed never to return to that miserable place. She would miss visiting her friends in Wiltshire whenever she pleased and their calls to her in return. Farnsworth valued his peace, and she would never be free to invite Grayling and his wife and daughters to visit. She would be cut off from everything she knew and loved, and that was unacceptable.

  Heart pounding, she closed the library door and leaned against it, drawing unsteady breaths as frustration gripped her. Her plans to find a lover this season were no longer a priority. What she needed was a way out of her dependency on Farnsworth. She wished she had someone to confide in, but her closest friends were still in Wiltshire and too far away to offer immediate aid.

  A sniff drew her attention and she raised her eyes to the stairs. Cecily stood at the halfway point of the first flight, eyes filled with tears, the butler at her side holding out a handkerchief. Given their sorrowful expressions, they must have overheard her father’s plans for Cecily to marry immediately. Was a tantrum imminent? That really would seal the girl’s fate.

  The butler backed away with a regretful smile, leaving Arabella to the task of comforting the girl on her own. She hurried to Cecily’s side, clasped her trembling hands, and led her back upstairs to her bedchamber before she did something rash like confront her father. She had a feeling that disobedience would not be tolerated. When the door closed behind them, Cecily gave in to her emotions with a loud sob. “I won’t let him do this to us.”

  “Come now, Cecily. Surely you knew your father would have the final say in whom you married? In time, it is my hope that Lieutenant Ford will put this behind him and be happy. So will you, I’m sure.” Feeling uncharacteristically close to the girl, she pressed a kiss to Cecily’s hair. “We should prepare for Lord Parker’s visit.”

  Cecily broke away. The girl could never bear to be coddled when she was upset. “I thought Father had some foolishness on his mind these past days, but it’s more important to decide how you are going to survive his plans for your life. You hate Surrey.”

  Arabella gaped at the girl’s words. She’d always assumed Cecily cared for naught but her own happiness and had never paid attention to what she had to say. Yet Cecily had bigger problems than Arabella’s exile to Surrey to worry about. “Mine? Cecily, dear. Do you understand the sort of life you will likely have as Lady Parker?”

  Cecily eyed her critically even through her tears. “We need to find you a new situation and much quicker than I originally planned.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Cecily sighed somewhat dramatically. “A husband you like this time.”

  �
��A husband? What plan? Now wait a moment.” Arabella held up one hand. “There is no plan that concerns me more than your future happiness. I have spent the last two months in search of a good man for you. In all my thinking, it was never to someone twenty years older than yourself. Besides, I doubt we’d be able to find a husband for me. Marriage is not in my future.”

  Now that she’d had time to consider Farnsworth’s attitude to his daughter, her ire rose. Women were not to be traded to the highest bidder. Power. Wealth. The Farnsworth men treated women no better than cattle.

  Cecily said, “Oh, please. A woman as beautiful as you has many men watching her. Forget Lord Parker. Laurence’s older brother, Lord Maitland, is nice—although he is a full year your junior.” Cecily grinned, warming to the discussion. “Even the debauched Lord Rothwell has paid more than a passing interest in you, and the whole world knows he avoids proper women.”

  The mention of Rothwell and the memory of his interest and devastating kiss caused her body to quiver. He would not have plans to marry her. Seduce her, yes, but nothing so permanent as a future together beyond a handful of nights. He’d suit her plans perfectly if she still required a lover. She had considered him briefly for an affair, but her courage had utterly failed until last night, and now she had other concerns to struggle through. “I’ve no wish for a husband. Marriage did not agree with me the last time I tried it.”

  “Given my uncle’s greater age and sour disposition, I’m not in the least surprised. You need someone fresher.” Cecily spun about in a tight circle, her grin widening. “Forget my father. We can have any man we want for our husband. It will take cunning and bravery for sure, but you just need to choose one and offer them the right encouragement before my father carries out his plan to banish you to Surrey.”

  Arabella caught her niece’s hands to still her. She assessed the gown Cecily wore and considered what might do for tomorrow. There was no time to dawdle. “What we need to do is talk about your future more than mine. Parker is expected to call tomorrow. You will need to be in your best looks.”

  Cecily’s expression grew sly. “Does my father join us for dinner this evening?”

  “No.” Arabella studied her niece, alarmed when her smile returned so quickly. “He’ll be at his club.”

  “Good. There is much to do. The first of which is to send a note to Laurie letting him know my worst fears have come to pass and to arrange a meeting. And the second, helping you, must be undertaken at the same time. So, who among the gentlemen I mentioned takes your fancy? Lord Wade? Although his ears are too large to take seriously. We cannot allow you to be banished to Hinkley’s dull confines. You’ve barely left my side all season, despite my attempts to disappear long enough so a gentleman might be inappropriate with your person.” Her niece giggled. “We need to discover where those you favor will be on any given night before it is too late.”

  Arabella shook her head furiously. “Enough of this. You cannot tell anyone of your father’s plans. There has been no announcement yet.”

  Cecily’s face grew serious at last. “I am sorry about losing your home in Wiltshire. I fear Papa used my coming out to bring you back under his roof. He can certainly bear the expense of Winslette’s upkeep. He just doesn’t want you so far away from his control. What about Rothwell? I really think he shouldn’t be dismissed as too much a rogue. By all accounts he’s a dab hand when it comes to the bedroom, and that must be a consideration at your time of life. I’ve just never heard of him being interested in marrying anyone, so convincing him to offer for you might require some careful planning.”

  Arabella quickly covered her niece’s mouth with her hand, furious that the girl just wasn’t listening. “Do not say such things out loud.”

  Cecily broke free and merely laughed at Arabella’s embarrassment. “My dear aunt, you are too precious. You were married for seven years and still sound as prim as those silly girls who came out with me. I cannot wait to be a wife with all it entails. Why do you blush when a man pays you attention? I swear, if I didn’t think it impossible, I would believe you a virgin.”

  Cecily left her then and in doing so missed the fiery blush that washed over Arabella’s face. She was a virgin—although she’d been married for enough years to make that fact ridiculous. When she’d taken her vows, she’d meant every word. She’d hoped Farnsworth might have grown kinder, at least somewhat fond of her, but he’d passed away and she was the same as the day she married. There was nothing she could do to change that fact now. Farnsworth would pack her off to the country as soon as Cecily was wed, and her hopes for the season were impossible. Whatever plans Cecily was making would be in vain. She had no one to turn to but friends and they were all in the country.

  Cecily retrieved a sealed square of paper from the depths of a drawer and then rang for a servant while Arabella looked on grimly. As the girl handed the note over to the maid they shared, she pressed a shilling into her hand. “It’s time, Hill.”

  The maid bobbed a curtsey, bounced on the balls of her feet somewhat excitedly, and then left as if the devil was chasing her. Arabella rubbed her brow. Was there any use in trying to rein the girl in and get her to think of making the best of her future? But she was just as stubborn as her father. Standing between the two was such a strain.

  When Cecily pulled a worn portmanteau from beneath the bed, alarm bells rang in Arabella’s mind. “What are you doing?”

  Cecily sized her up and Arabella broke out in a cold sweat.

  Her niece smiled sweetly. “The only thing I can. I’m eloping with Laurie.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Family was the curse of Merrick’s existence. He studied the two men seated opposite him and did his best to control his irritation at finding them in his home. The arrival of his Ford cousins always heralded trouble. Holland might have managed to send this pair away if he had not been already off on an errand.

  And the pair had interrupted his pleasant fantasy of making love to Arabella in a greenhouse filled with orchids and tall palms. He couldn’t ever have her in such an intimate setting, but he’d indulged himself and imagined it anyway.

  “I say, Rothwell, are you even listening to us?” Captain Fredrick Ford grumbled.

  Such interruptions were not to be borne with any form of good grace and certainly not for a wedding invitation to Newberry Park, home to generations of meddling Fords and the last place on earth Merrick wished to go. He reluctantly focused on his cousins. “I have no interest in attending.”

  “He says you have to come or the wedding cannot proceed,” Fredrick whined.

  Merrick raised a brow in disbelief. “For God’s sake, man, it’s your own wedding. Tell His Grace you’ll surrender to the enemy or something equally horrifying and he’ll forget about my absence simply to avoid the scandal. You’ll get her dowry one way or the other.”

  Their mutual grandfather, the Duke of Rutherford, was as difficult as all the rest and used his rank and influence to intimidate even his own family. Arranging marriages to suit his needs was high on his list of priorities. Fredrick was the first of their generation to succumb to the pressure of the shackle being secured about his leg.

  Fredrick frowned. “Do you not wish to meet my bride?”

  “I think it more important that you meet her. How long have you known her, anyway? A bare month at most?” Merrick shrugged away his disgust. Marriages made in haste always ended badly. “I’ll see her after the event when you’ve returned from sea and you both come up to Town.”

  And if it took a considerable amount of time to arrange that meeting, he would not be discontent. The less time he spent with his cousins, the better. They had nosy, prying natures. Every last one. Only a fool or a Ford relation would disturb a man before one in the afternoon.

  Captain Quinn Ford, Viscount Maitland and heir to the ducal estate after his father’s passing, lifted Merrick’s most prized orchid from the corner of the desk and studied it closely. “Sally is counting on you to come. She’
s in a complete snit about Freddy bowing to the arrangement as it is.”

  Merrick retrieved the temperamental orchid as Quinn started to pitch it from side to side as if measuring how it would fare aboard his ship. “Your sister has cause to disagree with the appeal of an arranged marriage.”

  Deprived of his amusement, Quinn sprawled in his chair as if he would never leave. “Sally is long over her disappointment, I assure you.”

  Merrick closed his eyes briefly. Did Quinn really not understand the cruel damage done to Quinn’s sister’s heart from her own aborted match? Not for one moment did he think Sally had forgotten that on the eve of her wedding, she had discovered her intended was marrying her for the guaranteed promotion it would offer him in his career. Such a disappointment would not go away so easily.

  When Merrick had come upon Sally soon after, he’d calmed her down and then had the chore of ensuring her former intended suffered just enough for breaking her heart rather than the Ford cousins killing him. That was the last time he’d involved himself in Ford affairs. He was in no rush to return to the family fold to continue old bad habits.

  When he opened his eyes again, Quinn held out a folded parchment document. “His Grace sent this for you. If it’s like ours, you might want to burn it before opening. It contains a special license. He’s determined to have us all married before the year is out.”

  His cousin placed the parchment on his desk and Merrick stared at it, cursing his grandfather’s meddling but rather impressed in turn. When he did decide on which woman he wanted to marry, the whole business could be concluded at their own convenience.

  He smiled serenely. Since he had a special license in his possession now, it wouldn’t do him any good to leave London. “Give my best to your mother and sisters when you return to Essex.”