As he closed the door, he heard her mutter, “Oh, the injustice of this.”

Although puzzled by her words, he called for Holland and waited in the hall. The servants trooped back and forth, Holland hurrying everyone along as quickly as he could. Holland nodded when he was done and disappeared downstairs again. When the house was quiet once more, he returned his bedchamber and knocked on the door.

As before, Arabella faced him through the opening. “You grow orchids?”

He smiled quickly. “I dabble.”

“So do I.”

He nodded. “I know. Grayling mentioned that you and his late wife would spend hours in the conservatory he had built at his estate.”

She opened the door fully and with a quick, furtive glance at the empty hallway beyond stepped toward him. “Why did you not tell me? We could have spoken about propagation and such.”

“When? We’ve only ever spoken briefly before now.”

“That is true. I cannot imagine why.” When she strolled out into the hall, there was a book in her hands. She lifted it, a small guilty smile crossing her face. “I’ve not read this one. May I borrow it to read this evening?”

He nodded and gestured for her to walk beside him. The urge to curl his arm around her back and draw her close against his side grew to an impossible ache. He clenched his hands behind his back instead of reaching for her. “Yes, of course. I finished it last night, actually, so you may have it for as long as you like. There are many more in my study downstairs, too. You’re welcome to borrow what you like while I am out tonight.”

Her frown returned. “You’re going out again?”

Was that disappointment or disapproval? He nodded. “I have an invitation I cannot decline at this late an hour, and I thought crying off might draw unwanted attention. Holland will be home all night should you need anything at all.”

She sighed, then cast an impish smile in his direction. “You are very fortunate in your choice of butler. It’s a wonder someone hasn’t tried to steal him for themselves.”

He smiled at her mistake. “Holland acts in my stead in many things, but Jenkins is actually the butler, though he’s away at present. I don’t believe there’s a high enough offer that would convince either one to leave my employ, but that’s a conversation for another day.”

She reached her doorway and paused. “When I am better, we have much to discuss, sir. You have been keeping secrets from me. I dislike secrets between friends.”

He studied her face, noting that the light in her eyes had returned, and leaned against the wall as close to her as he dared. “Are we friends now?”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a gentle smile that had his body reacting before he could prevent it. “We surely must be.”

Then she was gone, disappearing inside her bedchamber without another word or an invitation to follow. Merrick paused a long moment and then turned for his bedchamber, aware that while he was disappointed to part company with Arabella so soon, he was grinning like an idiot. Arabella liked him enough to call him a friend. That made any inconvenience her presence caused worthwhile, at least on his part. He could get to like being gently admonished by her, but he would still keep his secrets.

Now that Arabella had been dealt with, he had a dinner to prepare for. While he dressed, he practiced the things he might say to Lady Mary Crawford at dinner. He could ask her about her season. He could ask her if she liked the country. He could ask her if she knew about his past and his father too, and if so consider overlooking it. He shook his head. Didn’t women claim that reformed rakes made the best husbands? To do that required they rise to the challenge and give a man a chance. He could certainly make the attempt to prove his sincerity if the lady was more open-minded than most.

Holland nodded his approval as he stepped through the front door and into his carriage. The journey to Lord Crawford’s residence was not far, and he had little time to catch his breath. He pushed Arabella’s situation from his mind for a little while. Holland would take care of her and refuse Farnsworth admittance should he knock on the door.

That left him free to pursue his own agenda. Lord and Lady Crawford would be gracious hosts, their daughter full of energy and chatter. He put on his best face and stepped out of the carriage, determined to make the right impression.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Arabella closed the book as she reached the last page and laid it aside. She’d been Rothwell’s guest for three days, and the marks on her face and neck were finally reduced to faint smudges. In the course of her recovery, Arabella had discovered herself as vain as the next woman. She’d feared permanent harm and men’s reactions to her loss of beauty. Rothwell’s reassurances had gone a long way to helping her adjust. If not for his gentle kindness, she’d still be hiding in her bed.

The clock downstairs struck four o’clock and chimed out the close of another day. She stood and brushed off the skirts of another day dress that had appeared without explanation as to its origins. One day she would make Rothwell answer her questions and she would find some way to repay him for his generosity.

Now in need of a new book to while away the afternoon, she ventured out into the hallway with a plan to surreptitiously explore the rest of Rothwell’s home. The floor she’d spent the last few days on contained only bedchambers, dressing rooms, and a few closets containing bedding. Most were neglected, which fit with what Arabella knew of Rothwell. He didn’t have family save the Fords, and his tendency to avoid them made his home little visited. The lower floors were mostly a mystery.

When she reached the top of the stairs and started down, she was surprised at seeing Rothwell rushing up them toward her. He barely saw her before they would have collided. She jumped aside, only to run into him when he swerved too.

“My apologies,” he said quickly, his breathing rushed, his riding coat half off, and his cravat dangling from his fingers.

Arabella dragged her eyes from the patch of chest exposed by his undressing. “None needed,” she reassured him, fighting the blush threatening to give away her feelings. “I am sorry to be in your way.”

“I was on my way to see you, actually. But I’d wanted to change first.” He grinned and lifted his arm to his nose. “I fear I smell of the stables. I’m just back from Tattersall’s with one of my men and a new horse. I was on my way to change just now.”

She swept her gaze over him and liked what she saw. Even though he appeared slightly rough around the edges, the air of vitality brought about by exercise and likely excitement over the purchase suited him well. “I see that.”

A throat cleared nearby and when Arabella peeked around Rothwell’s broad shoulders, she found Holland waiting on a lower stair.

Rothwell grinned again. “Where will you be in twenty minutes?”

“Downstairs, if that is all right with you.” She waved the book in her hand. “I need a new book.”

“Perfect. By all means, help yourself to anything you like. I’ll join you shortly if you’d enjoy company.”

She nodded quickly. It had been a long, slow day with only her own company for amusement. Rothwell’s eyes glowed with pleasure and he leaned just a little closer—just enough that the scent of horses did reach her. She couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose.

He eased back quickly. “Do excuse me.”

He passed her by quickly without another word, leaving Arabella standing with only Holland for company. The older man nodded to her, his gaze speculative, and then followed Rothwell at a more sedate pace to his bedchamber.

When the door shut with a solid thud, Arabella hurried down the remaining stairs. The more time she spent with Rothwell, the more she wilted beneath those smoldering eyes, which caused her no end of blushes.