“That’s what I heard, too.” Louth smiled grimly. “Well, so good to see you again. My thanks again for the lease of your Yorkshire property.”
“My pleasure.” Merrick grinned. “Did you and your lady friend enjoy the winter there? I’m told it’s quite lovely if one doesn’t leave the bedroom.”
“I don’t know.” Louth scowled . “The lady threw me out in a fit of temper the very first night.”
He hurried off, leaving Merrick to puzzle over that final remark. After all the trouble Louth had gone to in leasing the property and practically begging for absolute discretion, he must have blundered quite badly to not spend even a single night with the woman.
He faced Arabella again and froze as Lord Parker, being taller than the lady by several inches, cast a lascivious eye over Arabella’s perfect breasts. The man was practically drooling over her. In fact, as Merrick watched on, Parker’s hand rose to play with the tassel hanging from her loose-fitting sleeves. The touch was protracted, and yet Lady Farnsworth did not slap his hand away.
Merrick took a moment to suppress his surprise and then checked the room to see if anyone else had noticed the proper Lady Farnsworth being seduced so publicly. Unfortunately, Louisa had noticed. Her little fists were clenched tightly at her sides, her eyes narrowed. Louisa certainly wasn’t the sort to guard the virtue of another lady, so he was convinced she wasn’t outraged on Lady Farnsworth’s behalf. Was she engaged in an affair with Lord Parker too?
A cunning smile flittered across Louisa’s face, and it seemed a distinct possibility she was engaged to some degree with Lord Parker. When she glided slowly toward Arabella and Parker via a circuitous route, Merrick moved to better view the encounter, heart sinking with dismay. Louisa clearly had no love for the situation and Lady Farnsworth seemed unaware she was in the line of fire. It wasn’t in Louisa’s nature to make a public spectacle of herself, but as she had told him on more than one occasion, there was always a first time for everything.
However, when Louisa insinuated herself into the conversation, Arabella engaged her in a protracted conversation, leaving Parker at a distance from the pair and largely out of the conversation. Indeed, they spoke so exclusively together that when Parker went on his way, neither paid much attention except to bid him farewell. Perhaps he’d been wrong about Louisa and Lord Parker. But whatever the situation might be, it seemed Arabella’s knack for avoiding awkwardness with other women was as strong as ever. Her ability to appease others was a skill she employed effortlessly. No matter what happened around her, Lady Farnsworth continued on as if any untoward behavior had never happened.
CHAPTER TWO
At the age of eight and twenty Arabella Lawson, Lady Farnsworth, was not the kind of woman to incite great passion in the gentleman she met. In truth, she did not believe she had ever stirred the slightest rush of desire in her entire life. Nevertheless, she would not be deterred from her mission this night as she had been on so many others. She wanted a lover this season. At long last. Someone who would not laugh at her inexperience. Someone who would show her what her marriage had lacked without thinking there was something wrong with her.
Around her, the most handsome, witty, and downright dangerous lords of society strolled the throng, taking their pick from any number of willing widows. Arabella was both a widow and exceedingly willing. It was simply a matter of catching the right gentleman’s eye and praying he understood her intentions. Thanks to a friend’s explicit advice, she was as prepared now as she’d ever been. Rosemary Randall, now Lady Grayling, had shared many intimate details of how one might spend a night in a lover’s arms, though Arabella had not had the opportunity to put any of that into practice.
So far a lover hadn’t fallen into her lap, and the more time passed, the more nervous about the matter she became. She had allowed the need to prepare her niece for the season in London as a reason to set the issue aside until tonight, and that had been a mistake.
What she wouldn’t give to have Rosemary at her side now, promising again that all would be well. It was so unfair. If only Arabella’s husband had loved her a little, she’d never have been in this predicament. They had married for different reasons, reasons Arabella had not fully understood when she’d made her vow, and she had promised herself to never assume happiness couldn’t be hers again. She would never remarry, but that did not mean she had to be alone. Once the small matter of her virginity was put behind her, she would be content to grow old alone.
She darted a discreet gaze around the room in search of likely candidates for a lover and found no new faces. Drat. Even the unexciting Lord Parker was nowhere in sight, likely discouraged by her talk of fashion with Lady Harrison. Lady Harrison had latched on to the topic of riding habits and confessed she collected riding crops to match them. She could never get enough apparently and had a vast array upstairs. The topic had sent Lord Parker on his way in a hurry, his face flushed red.
Lady Harrison winked. “Do excuse me, won’t you my dear Lady Farnsworth? A hostess must not neglect her guests, and I see a gentleman over there desperately trying to catch my eye.”
“Yes, of course,” Arabella said quickly, not in the least concerned to be abandoned so soon. “I do understand. It is so easy to ruffle the feathers of an overlooked acquaintance when hosting a ball. Your events are always so well attended.”
Lady Harrison gave her an odd look, then sauntered away in a swish of red silk. Arabella envied her assurance as she moved through the crowd, throwing teasing smiles at the gentlemen she met. Unfortunately, such behavior was beyond Arabella’s skills. She wished she only had to look at a man for him to know what she was thinking, but so far, no one was listening and interesting things only seemed to happen to other ladies.
The last time she’d tried fluttering her lashes, Lord Louth had asked her if she was ill.
Across the room, Lady Harrison paused to speak to Lord Rothwell, and a devilish smile flittered across his lips before he whispered something in her ear. Tall, dark, and sleek as a caged leopard at Wombwell’s traveling menagerie in his dark coat, breeches, and gold-and-white-striped waistcoat, Rothwell could have any woman he wanted and, according to London’s finest gossips, frequently did many times over. Was she witnessing an assignation?
More than likely, given his eager nod of agreement and Lady Harrison’s pleased, secretive smile. At least that is what Arabella had to assume. Having never been in the same situation, she could only guess what one might say to make that man smile so wickedly.
Arabella put her speculation aside and reluctantly returned to her brother-in-law’s company. She smiled at the few friends standing about him, but was astonished to find her niece Cecily was not standing with her father anymore. After a discreet check among the couples gathered on the dance floor for the quadrille, Arabella groaned under her breath. Cecily had vanished. Again. She tightened her grip on her fan. Cecily had promised no more disappearances, yet the minute Arabella’s back was turned the girl flitted away. Chaperoning her was proving to be a nightmare.
A hot breath against her ear made her jump. “Go find her this instant and bring her back to me.”
The demand from her brother-in-law was not unexpected. He’d made it very plain that Cecily’s behavior and her failure so far to snare the right husband was entirely Arabella’s fault, and to a degree he was right. Yet she’d spent little time with the girl as she was growing up, and Cecily already had firm opinions on what she would do and would not do. She could hardly be blamed if the girl refused to heed her words. Cecily pointed out more often than was comfortable that Arabella should have had a daughter of her own to mother by now.