Chapter Eleven
Within the drawing room the next evening, after they had eaten and put Archie to bed, Arabella and her mother were darning a pile of Archie’s stockings, during which Mrs Tatton was making every effort to cheer Arabella just as she had been doing since they had heard about Dominic Furneaux during their shopping trip. But rather than making her feel better, Mrs Tatton’s diatribe on Dominic Furneaux and his failings was making Arabella feel worse.
‘If that wretched man had done his duty, it never would have come to this. Why, if I were ever to clap eyes on him again I would tell him exactly what—’
There was an urgent knock at the drawing-room door and then Gemmell hurried in without waiting to be told to enter. One look at the butler’s face and Arabella realised that something was wrong. Even Mrs Tatton’s heated harangue ceased when she saw him.
‘It is the d—’ He glanced at her mother and then amended what he had been about to say. ‘The master,’ he finished. ‘Just drawn up outside this very minute.’
‘I did not hear his carriage,’ said Arabella.
Her mother paled with fright.
‘Come quickly, Mrs Tatton, James here will help you upstairs.’ Gemmell gestured to her mother.
Her mother jumped to her feet, forgetting all about Archie’s stockings that she was darning so that they tumbled on to the floor. ‘Oh, my word! Oh, my word! He will catch me for sure.’ Her arms were flapping about in a panic.
‘Stay calm, Mama, there is time enough yet. No, leave that,’ Arabella said as her mother stooped to pick up the scattered stockings. ‘I will see to them. You go with James, quickly now.’
Mrs Tatton half-ran, half-hobbled from the room to take hold of the footman’s arm and the last Arabella saw, her mother was being propelled along the passageway on the arm of the footman.
She wasted no further time, for Gemmell was already hurrying to the front door to have it open in time for Dominic to reach the top of the stone stairs that led up to it. Arabella trusted him and knew that the old butler would not open the door until her mother had disappeared from sight, even if it meant he had to do the unthinkable and keep a duke waiting outside his own front door.
She crouched on the drawing-room floor and began gathering up Archie’s stockings. The front door opened. Gemmell’s voice.
Then Dominic’s sounded. And there was the steady tread of booted footsteps coming along the passageway. She had grabbed the last stockings and was hiding them behind the cushion of the armchair just as Dominic entered the drawing room.
Arabella jumped and looked flustered. There was a hint of colour in her cheeks, some of her hair had escaped its pins to fluff around her neck and face and she seemed a little out of breath.
‘I was just darning some stockings,’ she said and stuffed the stockings out of sight.
‘What need have you to darn anything? Am I not paying you enough to buy new?’
He saw the way she stiffened and the heightened colour on her cheeks and regretted his words immediately.
‘I do not like waste,’ she said. ‘A few stitches with a needle and the stockings are repaired almost as new.’
Make do and mend. And that same unease whispered about him as to the circumstances of Arabella’s life that had led her to a brothel.
There was an awkward silence between them and then she said, ‘You should have told me about Lord Misbourne’s daughter, Dominic.’
So, Misbourne’s lies had permeated even this far. ‘There is nothing to tell, Arabella.’
‘Nothing?’ She stared at him and he saw the anger flash in her eyes. ‘I know better. Little wonder that you were so displeased to meet him with me upon your arm! I know, so you need not pretend otherwise.’ She was angry and reckless with it. Her face was pale, her eyes troubled.
‘You know nothing other than a false rumour, Arabella.’
‘Stop it, Dominic! I heard it from Lady Misbourne’s mouth with my own ears.’
He stilled, his pulse suddenly beating fast. ‘You have spoken to Lady Misbourne?’
‘Not directly. I overheard her conversation with another.’
‘And what exactly did you overhear?’
‘That you are interested in her daughter as your duchess. That they are expecting you to offer for her shortly.’
He gave a cold hard laugh, although there was nothing of mirth in what he was feeling. ‘They may expect, Arabella, but they shall receive nothing.’
‘But she is wealthy and an earl’s daughter,’ and he heard the slight bitterness in Arabella’s voice. ‘Surely you cannot fault that she is a suitable match for you?’
‘I have no intention of marrying Lady Marianne Winslow.’
Something changed in her face as if a new thought had only just made itself known to her, and all of the bitterness dropped away to be replaced with concern. ‘You have not ruined her, have you, Dominic?’
He gave a cynical laugh that she could believe such a thing of him. Even though he was a rake. And even though everyone knew that fact. ‘You need have no fear for the girl’s virtue on my score, I assure you, Arabella,’ he said coldly.
‘At least have the decency to tell me the truth!’
‘I am telling you the truth,’ he said.
‘I heard Lady Misbourne’s words.’
‘She is misinformed, I tell you.’
‘No.’
‘Yes, Arabella!’
They looked at one another, with only the sound of their breath in the silence.
‘I will not marry Lady Marianne for the same reason I will not marry any other.’
He saw the shock, the confusion, the suspicion in her eyes. He should stop now, but he could not. He moved forwards.
‘Shall I tell you why there will be no Duchess of Arlesford? Do you want the whole ugly truth of it?’
She backed away a little.
‘Of how I have longed for you through the years?’ He stepped closer.
She edged back.
‘Of how I have relived those last moments a thousand times in my head?’ Another step. ‘God dammit, Arabella, I loved you!’
‘No!’ she cried. ‘Do not say it. I do not want to hear more of your lies. You never loved me! You only wanted me in your bed and once you had had that—’
Dominic backed her against the wall and placed a hand around the nape of her neck, forcing her to look at him that she might see the truth from which she was so intent on hiding.
‘I loved you, Arabella,’ he said savagely and stared down into her eyes.
‘Stop it!’ She tried to turn away, but he would not let her. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘Because I loved you,’ he said again, more gently this time and he could no longer hide the hurt of what she had done to him. ‘Arabella,’ he said softly, and her gaze moved unwilling to his. ‘Arabella,’ he said again and looked into her eyes and let her see the truth.
She stopped struggling. Stilled. Stared at him. And the pain that he saw in her eyes was as raw and aching as that in his heart. They stared at one another and everything else in the world ceased to be.
‘I loved you too, Dominic,’ she said and her voice was thick with emotion.
In the silence he could hear the soft sound of her breath and beneath his fingers he could feel the throb of her pulse.
‘Then why did you marry Marlbrook?’ It was the question he had waited almost six years to ask.
She opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again and shook her head. But there could be no mistaking the look of anguish upon her face. She looked as tortured as he felt.
His hand moved from the nape of her neck to thread through her hair. He angled her face all the closer to his so close that her lips were within an inch of capture.
‘Tell me,’ he insisted.
She shook her head again in an infinitesimal motion of denial, but in her eyes he saw something of her resolve crumble and beneath it the flicker of fear.
‘You know that I would never hurt you, no matter what,’ he said softly.
‘You already did, Dominic,’ she whispered.
He felt something break apart inside of him at her answer. ‘I do not understand. Tell me,’ he said again.
She looked deep into his eyes. ‘How can you really not know?’
‘You married Marlbrook,’ he said and knew that he was missing something of monumental importance.
‘Yes.’
‘Then you did not love me.’
‘I loved you more than anything.’
‘Then why?’ he demanded.
‘God, please help me,’ she whispered and her voice was trembling. Then she raised her mouth to his and kissed him. Something of that kiss seemed to reach in and stroke against Dominic’s soul so that when she withdrew her lips he felt almost bereft. They stared into each other’s eyes, and the intensity of the moment was taut between them.
He knew that she was hiding something of the truth from him. And standing here right now looking into her eyes it did not make any difference. He still needed her at every level that was possible. And he knew that whatever else she said, Arabella needed him too. With all of the emotion that was roaring between them it was only a matter of time before she told him what he wanted to know.
His heart was beating in hard steady strokes as he kissed her. His hand slipped around hers and then he took her to bed and made love to her.
Arabella awoke with the early morning light stealing through the curtains to find Dominic still in her bed. He was snuggled against her back, his hand draped against the nakedness of her stomach and her bottom nestled into his crotch.
She lay there for a moment, letting herself revel in the warm strong feel of him before letting reality and all of its worries back in again.
I loved you, Arabella. She heard the whisper of his words running through her head again and knew she should not believe him. If he had loved her so much then he would not have treated her so badly. Words were cheap and so easily woven into a pretty pattern of lies. Actions were what counted. A man’s deeds. What he did rather than what he said. And yet even knowing all that, lying here naked in Dominic’s arms, her body bearing the scent of his loving, she knew that she wanted to believe him. Her head might know he was lying, yet her heart was a different matter all together.
She craned her neck up to see the clock on the mantel. Five o’clock. Too early, but she knew from the hum in her body that she would not go back to sleep. She was too aware of Dominic and all that was happening between them, the tumultuous peaks of physical ecstasy and troughs of emotional misery. She tried to ease his fingers from her stomach, but the large hand with its long fingers tightened against her.
‘Arabella?’ His voice was husky from sleep. She felt the stirring of his arousal against her buttocks.
‘You are awake.’ She rolled round to face him, carefully opening up a small distance between them, not knowing how things would be between them this morning, whether he would probe again into the past, asking questions that were too dangerous to answer.
He smiled and there was about him this morning none of the tension that had been so evident between them last night.
The growth of dark stubble peppered his cheeks and chin. He looked piratical and dangerous and wicked and yet the look in his eyes was loving and velvet and molten. He glanced towards the clock, then smiled again in that way that made her heart somersault.
With an easy, unhurried air he rose from the bed and, without the slightest self-consciousness over his nakedness, made his way over to the pitcher and basin to wash. Arabella sat up, pulling the sheets up high to cover her own nudity, and watched him. His shoulders were broad, tapering down to slim hips. His every movement created ripples in the muscles that defined it. She watched the droplets of water roll down the pale golden skin of his back.
He glanced round and saw her sitting there watching him. She felt her cheeks heat and looked quickly away.
‘I will call one of the footman to help you dress.’ She slipped from the bed, grabbed up her shift and held it against her to preserve some measure of modesty, then hurried over to the wardrobe to fetch her dressing gown. She opened the wardrobe door using it as a screen between herself and Dominic. The shift dropped to the floor and she slipped on the thin cotton dressing gown, tying its belt around her waist. But when she closed the cupboard door Dominic was standing right there looking at her.
‘I do not need a footman.’ His voice was husky and his eyes seemed to darken with hunger as he looked at her. She saw his gaze drop lower and watched while he reached a hand across to rub the back of his wet knuckles gently against her breast, wetting the thin white cotton to render it transparent. Her nipple hardened and strained rosy and peaked through the material. He rubbed against it a little longer and she felt desire shimmer right through her. His hand dropped lower to tug one end of her belt so that the loose knot parted and the gown fell open.
‘I am not washed,’ she said, feeling embarrassed at how wantonly her body was responding to him even in daylight.
He leaned in closer and took her mouth with his, kissing her to make her forget all of her protestations. He smiled again. ‘Then let me wash you.’ And he lifted the soap.
‘Open your legs.’
Arabella stared at him. Her heart was beating very fast. ‘You cannot,’ she whispered.
‘Don’t you want me to?’ he replied against her lips, then nuzzled kisses against her neck.
She knew that it was wrong, that she should not want any of this. But when he peeled the dressing gown off her shoulders, sliding it down her body to land upon the floor, and kissed her, she wrapped her arms around him and returned his kiss with passion.
Dominic deepened the kiss and ran his hand over her body, stroking her, and caressing her with a touch that was both gentle yet possessive. And then he moved away and she saw him lather up his hands in the water. And her mouth went dry.
He turned to her; there was such a hunger in his eyes that she felt herself tremble. One arm snaked around her waist, pulling him to her.
His mouth was hot against her ear. ‘Open your legs,’ he whispered.
‘Dominic…’ she protested.
He kissed her mouth, a long stroking sensual kiss that ended in him biting softly against her lower lip.
Her body reacted independently of her mind; her legs opened for him and she felt him touch her. The water was cold against her heat and she gasped both from the shock of that and the audacity of what he was doing. He massaged her gently, washing her with a thoroughness that made her legs tremble. And then he rinsed her, cupping handfuls of water over her so that it ran it rivulets down her thighs while she gasped with the wanton pleasure of it. Her legs were shaking so much that she collapsed against him. Dominic gathered her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
She pulled him to her, knowing where this was leading and wanting it all the same, wanting him as if she still loved him. Because when he touched her something inside opened up to him and she could not stop herself from this any more than she could stop her heart from beating or her lungs from breathing. It was more than desire, more than just a physical intimacy. She needed his warmth, his strength, his tenderness. She needed to be able to forget the worry and the pain. She needed to feel this sharing of a heart. Love, even pretended, after all the years of unhappiness, was a balm to Arabella’s soul.
‘Dominic,’ she breathed and felt him move over her and kiss her all the more. She opened to him, wanting him to take her, needing to feel him inside her. And in response the probe of his manhood pressed between her legs. She wriggled her hips, her hands sliding to his firm flank to pull him against her.
‘Arabella,’ he groaned her name, and she could hear his need in his voice and feel it in the tension that vibrated throughout his body. For all that his movements were controlled she could sense the urgency beneath. His mouth left hers and he adjusted his position to slide lower down her body so that she thought he meant to kiss her breasts, to taste her, to suckle from her. Her nipples hardened with unbearable sensitivity just at the thought of it and between her legs grew even slicker.
But Dominic did not stop at her breasts. When he kept on moving she threaded her fingers through his hair and tried to guide him back to where her nipples ached for his touch. His gaze held hers, all dark and blazing with desire, and as she watched he placed a single kiss just below her ribcage. And then, keeping his gaze locked with hers, he kissed her again, this time lower, in the centre of her stomach…and then a third time, just at the line of her pelvis.
‘Dominic!’ She tried to close her legs. ‘You surely do not mean to—’
But he did.
His warm breath stirred the small patch of golden hair as his mouth touched to her secret woman’s place.
She gasped at that first kiss, at the wonder of the sensation that shot through her body. And by the time he was working a magic with his tongue she forgot to bite her lip and groaned her pleasure aloud.
‘Dominic,’ she whispered, but he did not stop and she was arching her back and driving herself harder into his mouth, reaching for him, needing him with an urgency that obliterated all else. And when his hands closed over her breasts and she felt his fingers pluck at her taut straining nipples she reached her climax, exploding in the sensation, her body soft and pulsing her pleasure against him.
He kissed her thighs, kissed the curve of each hip, kissed his way up to take her in his arms. And then he gently stroked the long wanton curls from where they spilled over her face and looked at her with such love that her heart welled with joy to see it.
‘Arabella,’ he whispered and she loved him in that moment despite everything, she loved him against all rhyme and reason.
She pulled him closer and felt his hardness press against her leg. She wanted to pleasure him as he had pleasured her. She reached down and touched him.
She stroked the long hard length of his manhood and heard the breath catch in his throat and felt the tremble that racked his body. He lay still and let her take him, giving her the power to do whatever she willed.
She moved back, wanting to see him, wanting to see her fingers as they caressed his member, stroking that silken skin from its tip all the way down to the base amidst the nest of dark hair.
The groan escaped him. She held his gaze and bent her head to taste him…just as a door slammed shut upstairs.
The noise brought Dominic crashing back to reality. He could feel that Arabella had frozen at the sound.
‘It is nothing, Dominic.’ Her voice was too loud, too desperate, and he saw the flash of fear from her eyes. ‘Let it not interrupt us.’
But then the thud of running footsteps sounded through the ceiling above.
Arabella’s eyes widened. Her hand gripped tighter to his shaft.
She tried to stop him as he pulled away from her and tugged on his breeches. ‘No, Dominic, please!’ She jumped up, pulling on her dressing gown and tying its belt quickly around her waist.
They could both hear the tumble of feet on the main stair case.
‘No!’ She ran in front of him, blocking his path to the door. Her hair was long and wild, her face devoid of all colour and in her eyes was desperation. ‘Dominic!’ she cried and tried to push him back. ‘Do not!’ She threw her full weight against him, trying to prevent his continued progress.
The footsteps grew louder as they headed along the passageway towards them.
He grabbed her wrists, secured her hands behind her, resting them lightly against the small of her back so that her breasts were thrust against his chest.
‘Who have you hidden in this house, Arabella?’ he asked, and even to his own ears his voice sounded harsh. He thought of Marlbrook and a wave of jealousy swept right through him.
‘No one!’ She struggled against him. ‘Please, Dominic, I beg of you!’
‘Mama!’ a child’s voice called and little fists pounded at the door.
The shock stole the words he would have spoken. He released his hold of her wrists. Her eyes were wide with anguish as she stared up at him.
‘Where are you, Mama?’ the child cried. ‘I dreamt that you and Grandmama had gone away and when I woke I was all alone.’
She turned and, opening the door, scooped the child, clad in a long white nightshirt, up into her arms. ‘Here I am, little lamb. It was just a silly old dream. I have been here all along, in my bedchamber, as I always am. Now hush, Archie, there is no need for tears.’ And she kissed the child and hugged him to her, and soothed a hand against his hair.
Dominic stared and his heart contracted as hard as if a fist had squeezed it, for the little boy in Arabella’s arms was the very image of himself.