Chapter Fourteen
From the minute that Dominic arrived at Curzon Street the next day Arabella could see the determination in his gaze. She thought of what it was he had come to discuss and her heart missed a beat. She was frightened and hopeful and confused all at once.
‘Dominic!’ Archie ran up, so happy and joyful to see his father that Arabella’s guilt at keeping the two of them apart weighed heavier than ever upon her. ‘Are we playing the horses game today?’
‘Archie, let Dominic come in and at least remove his hat and gloves before you pester him. I told you that he is busy and might not have time to play today,’ said Arabella, but Archie was already by Dominic’s side looking up at him hopefully.
Dominic smiled and ruffled Archie’s hair. ‘Of course I have time for the horses game…that is, if your mama and grandmama give us their permission.’
Archie peered across at her and Mrs Tatton.
Arabella glanced at her mother, who was watching Archie and Dominic together. ‘Mama?’ she said softly, wanting her mother to be a part of this.
Mrs Tatton nodded. ‘Let them spend time together.’
‘Thank you,’ said Dominic. Arabella knew that he had no need to ask for permission—it was his house and his son. But the fact that he had understood how important this was to her and that he had consideration for her mother’s feelings gladdened her more than any fancy words or gifts could have done.
‘Hurrah!’ Archie shouted and produced a rather crushed and tatty-looking scroll of paper from his pocket. ‘I have my picture all ready.’
And when they went through to the drawing room, Mrs Tatton did not make her excuses, but came and sat with them too.
Dominic did not cease to marvel at Archie. The more he came to know him the more he realised that, although the boy had his looks, he had many of Arabella’s mannerisms. The way he tilted his head to the side when he was listening, and the way he chewed his lip when he was unsure of himself. Dominic never tired of the wonder of his and Arabella’s child.
His tailcoat had long been abandoned, his waistcoat was unbuttoned and the knot in his cravat loosened. Archie insisted on removing his shoes and demonstrating with pride to Dominic how well he could run and slide in his stocking soles across the polished floor. Dominic remembered doing the very same thing at home in Shardeloes Hall when he was a boy.
Dominic took a seat on the sofa and felt something hard jab into his back. He glanced round and found a small carved wooden horse half-hidden by the cushion.
‘Oh, you found Charlie sleeping in his stable.’ Archie smiled.
‘So his name is Charlie,’ said Dominic.
‘Gemmell made him for me. For my birthday.’ Archie smiled even more widely. ‘And my mama took us to the park and allowed me and Charlie to ride upon a real horse.’ Archie was beaming fit to burst.
‘I am sure you enjoyed that.’ He slid a gaze to meet Arabella and wondered how all this could have gone on beneath his very nose without him having an inkling of it. Her cheeks flushed and she bit her lip.
‘Oh, indeed, yes! It was the best treat ever.’
‘So now you know, Dominic,’ piped up Mrs Tatton. ‘She should have told you of the boy and the rest of it at the very beginning.’
‘Mama!’ whispered Arabella, scandalised.
‘Well, you should have,’ said Mrs Tatton to Arabella before turning back to him. ‘And you, for all that you can plead your excuses, should have treated my daughter a deal better than you have.’
‘You are right, ma’am,’ he conceded. ‘But I am here today to resolve that matter.’
Mrs Tatton’s eyes widened slightly. Her gaze shifted momentarily to Arabella and he saw in it both the question and anxiety before it came back to rest upon him.
No more was said of it, but Dominic stayed for dinner and was still there to kiss his son goodnight when he went to bed.
By the time Arabella and Dominic were alone in the drawing room Arabella was feeling distinctly nervous. She smoothed her skirts and perched on the edge of the sofa.
‘Your meeting with Lord Misbourne went well last night?’ she asked.
‘Well enough.’ He was standing over by the fireplace, which was still unlit on account of the warmth of the evening.
There was a silence that she quickly filled.
‘Would you like some more tea?’
‘No more tea, thank you, Arabella.’ His dark pensive gaze came to rest upon hers. ‘I meant what I said last night—about marriage—to you.’
‘Dominic.’ She sighed. It was such a sensitive subject for them both. ‘How can we possibly marry after all that has happened?’
‘How can we not?’ There seemed to be a still calmness about him, yet the flicker of the muscle in his jaw betrayed the tension that ran beneath that stillness.
‘I am your mistress, for pity’s sake!’
‘And have not other men married their mistresses? What of Mountjoy? Besides. I shall hardly be introducing you as such.’
‘Too many people know of Miss Noir and Mrs Silver.’
‘Maybe, but there is nothing to connect them to Mrs Marlbrook. Rest assured I will take every step to ensure that any such links be taken care of and that your background is nothing but respectable. Are you not the respectable and widowed Mrs Marlbrook recently come to London? They shall think it is a love match.’
Once it really had been a love match. And now… She looked into Dominic’s eyes.
‘We have to do this, Arabella, for Archie’s sake. I have a duty both to my son, Arabella, and to right the wrongs I have dealt you.’
Duty? Her hope, still so new and tender and rising, was crushed. There was no talk of affection, no mention of love.
‘This is about duty and appeasing your own guilt,’ she said. How foolish to have thought it could be anything other.
‘My guilt? It was you that hid Archie from me, Arabella.’ Her eyes widened as his words found their target.
‘What choice did I have? I did what I thought was best for Archie. He is my son.’
‘He is my son, too. Do I not also have the right to do my very best for him, or do you continue to deny me that right?’
She turned away to hide her hurt. ‘Archie looks so like you that everyone will know he is your son. He will be subjected to their gossip.’
‘I care not what they think, Arabella. They may whisper their suppositions, but I am not without power and influence. Besides, unless you mean to keep him hidden for ever they will find out soon enough and I can protect him all the better once we are married—just as I can protect you.’
She knew what he was saying was right, yet she was overwhelmed with a feeling of disappointment and sadness. She should be glad that he had such a care for his son, that he had a sense of honour. And she was. Truly. But she could not help thinking of the first time he had asked her to be his wife, when they had been young and na?ve and in love. Everything was different now. Too much had happened. There could never be any going back. And she hurt to know it.
‘I am unsure, Dominic.’
‘What is the alternative, Arabella? That I keep you here as my mistress with Archie as my bastard? Is that your preference?’
‘No!’
‘Then there is nothing else other than that we wed.’
She could feel the fast hard thump of her heart against her chest. He was asking her to marry him. The man she had loved; the man she loved still. Yet her chest was tight and she felt like weeping.
‘There is another alternative that you have not considered,’ she said slowly and it seemed as if the words did not even come from her own mouth. She felt chilled in even saying them, but they needed to be spoken. ‘I need not be your mistress. My mother and Archie and I could go to the country. If we had a little money, enough for a small cottage, we could live in quiet respectability and you could—’
He grabbed hold of her upper arms and pulled her close to stare down into her face, eyes filled with fury. ‘Is that what you want, Arabella?’
And behind his anger she saw the hurt of the wound she had just inflicted and she could not lie. ‘You know it is not.’ She shook her head and felt the tears prick in her eyes. ‘But this is not about want, is it? As you have already said, this is about duty and what is best for Archie.’
‘And you think it is best to take him away from his father?’
‘You could still visit him and—’
But he did not let her finish. ‘You may choose to marry me, Arabella, or to remain as my mistress. There is no other choice, for I will let neither you nor the boy go. So what is it to be, Arabella? Will you marry me?’
She felt angry and hurt and saddened. Her head knew his proposal made sense. He was offering what was best for Archie. He was offering what any woman in her situation should have jumped at. But her heart… Her heart was saying something else all together.
‘You set it all out so clearly,’ she said. And she remembered what he had said that very first night in the brothel: Whores do as rich men bid. And part of her revolted against both it and his possession of her.
His gaze held hers, waiting for her answer.
‘Yes, Dominic, I will marry you.’ For Archie. Only for Archie.
He gave a nod, and she felt something of the tension in his grip relax.
They looked at one another and there seemed so much anger and tension and sadness between them.
Then he took a small red-leather ring box from his pocket, inside of which was a ring of sparkling diamonds that surrounded a large square sapphire of the clearest, bluest blue.
‘The Arlesford betrothal ring,’ he said and slid the ring on to the third finger of her left hand.
She could not say a word, for she feared that all of what she felt would come tumbling out.
‘I will make the necessary arrangements.’
She nodded.
Dominic bowed, then he left.
It should have been one of the happiest days of her life, but for Arabella it was one of the saddest. Dominic was marrying her not out of love, but for Archie. They were both doing this for Archie. It was the way it had to be. And she should be used to giving herself to a man who did not love her.
Dominic knew he had made a mess of the proposal. He was shocked and hurt that Arabella had even suggested leaving. And he was shocked, too, at his resentment at being denied his son. The thought that she could even think of taking Archie away from him brought back all of the anger that he had felt on learning that she had kept the boy hidden from him. He knew that he had done everything wrong by her right from that first night in the bordello. And now he was trying to make it right. But it seemed that it was too late.
She said she still had feelings for him. And he knew what it was he felt about her. He had thought she would have wanted to marry him. He thought she would have been happy. But nothing of the conversation had gone as he had hoped, apart from the outcome, he supposed. Sometimes broken things could not be repaired. Sometimes the damage done was too great. He wondered if there was any way back for them.
He would make Arabella his wife, and see Archie acknowledged as his rightful son, because it was the best thing he could do for them. And as for matters between him and Arabella—well, he could only hope that through time they would improve.
He deadened his heart and set his mind to organising a ball at Arlesford House to announce their betrothal.