Arabella (26 page)

             
'The more fool him,' Gervase replied in clipped tones.  'He challenged me.  I would have let it go.'

             
'Because you agreed with him?'  Arabella accused.  'Just as you agreed with Jack…'

             
'Don't be a fool, Bella.'

             
'Jack couldn't take his fiancée to a place like that – but it is all right for me to go…'

             
'That is a different matter.  The girl is young and innocent.  She would be shocked by some of the behaviour there.'

             
'And I am not innocent,' Arabella said bitterly.  'That's what you mean, isn't it, Gervase?  I committed the unforgivable sin, did I not?  Therefore I am nothing, can be shown no respect.'

             
'Do not be ridiculous.  I have always treated you with respect.'

             
'Have you?'  She turned her face aside, fighting her tears and her hurt.  It was true that Gervase had never treated her as if she were merely a whore to him, but he had not defended her when Jack said those hurtful words, nor had he denied Harry's taunts.

             
But how could he when they were true?  Arabella felt the sting of regret.  If only she could go back to that day when she had allowed Harry to make love to her.  If only she could change what had happened.

             
'Do not sulk, Bella,' Gervase said.  'We cannot change the past.  And you need not shed tears for Sylvester.  I dare say it will end with honour being satisfied with first blood.'

             
Arabella did not answer him.  When they got to her house she allowed him to help her down from the carriage, but went on ahead, her head high.  She did not look at him as she walked upstairs, and once inside her room she locked the door, leaning against it as the tears she had held back ran down her cheeks.

             
'Bella!  Open the door,' Gervase said.  'I need to talk to you.  I have something to tell you.'

             
'Go away,' she said, wiping her hand across her face.  'I don't want to talk to you tonight.  Tell me what you have to say another time.'

             
'You are being foolish.  There is no need to be upset.  If you will only let me in I shall explain why none of this matters to us.'

             
'Go away.  I want to be alone.'

             
'So you can cry over that wretch Sylvester I suppose,' Gervase said and there was an angry note in his voice.  'Surely this evening told you what you can expect from him?  Why won't you trust me, Bella?'

             
'You don't care about me.  You let Jack insult me…'

             
'Jack wasn't thinking.  He accepts you as one of us, Bella, and that is a greater compliment than you know.  I shall insist that he apologises to you in private.  It would only have made things worse had I made a fuss this evening.'

             
Arabella said nothing.  She knew in her heart that he was right, but she was hurting too much to be sensible.

             
'Leave me alone tonight, Gervase.'

             
'If that is what you want…but I shan't be here tomorrow.  I shall see you in two days time.  Try not to be more foolish than you can help in the meantime.  None of this is important.  Believe me, it will all be different soon.'

             
He could not have made things plainer.  Hearing his footsteps walk away from her door, Arabella threw herself on the bed and began to sob in earnest.  He had made up his mind to part from her.  No doubt he would be generous.  He might allow her to keep the less valuable of her jewels, and the house and settlement were already tied up in her name.  She would not be destitute, but she would be alone.

Gervase cursed as he left the house and instructed his driver to take him home.  He would have liked to sort this out with Arabella for once and all.  It was time they came to a proper understanding.  His plans were almost ready now for the new life he planned for them.  The class ridden society of England would be left behind, the prejudice of those who had insulted Arabella that evening forgotten as they sought further horizons.

             
He had hoped that she would be glad to go with him, that they were close enough to enjoy the adventure he believed lay ahead of them.  Yet she still clung to her memories of Harry Sylvester.  Even his insults this evening had not cured her – though there were times when he believed her heart was no longer the property of that scoundrel.

             
Once, Gervase had wanted nothing more than to see Harry Sylvester bleeding and dying at his feet.  His anger had been such after the discovery of what had happened to his innocent sister, that he could happily have horsewhipped the rogue or strangled him with his bare hands.  Of late his anger had abated, leaving him only a kind of sadness that his poor Helen had died without ever knowing the happiness he had discovered with Arabella.

             
A kind of happiness he believed would grow stronger with the years, would grow and blossom in the new life he planned for them.

Arabella's feeling of misery intensified as the long night and the following, even longer day passed.  It was certain that Gervase had tired of her and she knew she must accept his decision when it came without tears or recriminations.  He had never told her he loved her, never promised her more than he had already given her.

             
But what was she to do with the rest of her life?  Arabella could think of nothing but the empty days and nights to come.  Her life had revolved around Gervase this past year and although she had made one or two friends, young women in a similar situation to herself, there was no one she could unburden herself to.  Her aunt she knew would have no sympathy, nor would she bother with Arabella once she knew that she was no longer Gervase's mistress.

             
A visit to her sister was out of the question.  Lady Mary had told her that Nan's temper had not improved since the birth of her first child.  She could of course find herself a new protector.  She knew that was the advice her aunt would give her – but the thought of taking another man in Gervase's place was so awful that Arabella felt sick at the mere idea.

             
Yet what else could she do?  She had not been meant to live alone and would miss the gaiety and comradeship she had experienced with Gervase's friends.

             
What if something were to happen to Gervase?  Amidst her own feelings of misery and fear for the future, she was suddenly aware of fear for Gervase.  She did not believe that Harry could beat him in a sword fight, but something might happen…

             
No, she would not let herself think about that stupid duel!  Gervase had told her it was a mere formality, and she was sure that it would end with the pair of them making friends and going off to drink together.

* * *

Arabella's conviction did not keep her from a sleepless night that night, for she had received a note from one of Gervase's friends to say that the duel was to take place in the morning.

             
After tossing endlessly on her pillow, she rose early and putting on her cloak went for a walk in the cool morning air.  She had drawn her hood well up over her face, and though she received a few curious stares, no one accosted her and she returned feeling refreshed.  She would never have believed it possible, she thought as she went up to her bedchamber, but on her walk she had felt nostalgic for her home in the country.  It seemed that the life in London had begun to lose its charm for her – or perhaps that was merely because she was feeling so low?

             
On her return to the house, she found a note from Gervase waiting for her.  The duel was over and both men were alive.  Arabella closed her eyes, realising how much she had feared something very different, and then read on.

             
Gervase had received nothing more than a scratch on his arm, but he was sorry to inform her that Harry was more severely wounded and there were fears for his life.

             
If that happens,
Gervase had written,
I shall have to go to the country for a while, Bella.  I shall expect you to accompany me.  I have something important to discuss with you.

             
She already knew what that was, of course, but why did he want her to accompany him to the country?  Duelling was not illegal, though it was frowned upon these days, and, when a man was killed, often led to arrest or disgrace for the victor.  A speedy release could be obtained by payment of a fine, and she saw no reason why Gervase should wish to avoid that – unless the fight had been deemed unfair.

             
Had Gervase been determined to kill Harry?  Had he done something terrible?  Something for which he might be accused of murder?

             
Suddenly, Arabella's sympathies were all with Harry.  She had seen for herself that he was drunk the night he challenged Gervase, and he had said dreadful things -– but perhaps it was because he was so unhappy.  Perhaps he had been jealous when he saw her looking so well and happy with Gervase…

             
And Gervase no longer wanted her for himself.  Why did he have to kill the only man she had cared for?  In her rising anger and distress, her thoughts were confused and she forgot the months of content she had known with Gervase.  All the pain of losing Harry came back to her and she began to imagine that he had been miserable because of her – because he had loved her.

             
Gervase did not want her, but Harry did – and Harry was dying.  Gervase had done it to spite her.  It was all his fault.  If he had not hated Harry; if he had not ruined him at the card tables, she would have been Harry's wife!

*

Anger had been simmering inside her all day.  It burst out as Gervase walked in wearing his coat with one sleeve loose and a sling to support his injured arm, nonchalantly asking her if she were ready to go to the theatre with him that evening.

             
'How can you ask that?' she demanded, eyes flashing.  'When you have killed Harry!'

             
'His condition is better than I thought this morning,' Gervase replied, his expression remote and unreadable.  'I dare say he will live, though he may be obliged to keep to his bed for a few weeks.'

             
'And that is all you care!'  Arabella was beyond reason.  He had left her alone all day to worry and fret, and now he behaved as if nothing particular had happened.  'But then, you care nothing for anyone other than yourself.'

             
'I suppose that means you?'  His mouth had drawn into a thin line.  'I am sorry if you have been anxious over your lover, Bella.  When I sent that note I believed he might die – but, as I said, I dare say he may live.'

             
'Oh, I hate you!'

             
'Yes, I can see that you do,' Gervase replied.  'I had hoped your feelings were rather different, Bella – but it seems that I am wrong.  That is unfortunate.  I had plans for the future for us both, but clearly you have others.  I wish you well of them.  I dare say Sylvester may care to take you up as his mistress.  They say his wife is a sour faced scold and keeps him on a tight rein financially, but he may find a way of escaping her now and then.'

             
'He loves me,' Arabella declared hardly knowing why she did so except that Gervase had made her angry and she wanted to hit back at him.  'If you had not ruined him at the card tables he would have married me.'

             
'It seems you have learned nothing,' Gervase said.  'I am sorry.  I had hoped that you might have learned to care for me a little.  However, I know when I am defeated.  You have this house and your settlement, Bella – and whatever presents I have given you.  I think we have nothing more to say to one another.'

             
'Gervase…'  Arabella's heart raced, her knees going weak as she realised what he was saying.  'No…I didn't mean…'

             
'Oh, but I think you did,' he said.  'I believe we have been happy together at times, Bella – but
he
was always between us.  Forgive me, I shall not see you again.  I leave for the country in the morning.  Goodbye, my dearest.  I pray that you may find happiness one day.'

             
'Gervase…'

             
There was so much she wanted to say, but the words stuck in her throat.  She watched as he turned and walked away from her.

             
And then she fell to her knees, covering her face with her hands.  It was over.  All the happiness she had known these past months was at an end – and for what?  Gervase seemed to believe that she still cared for Harry Sylvester.  In her distress and anger she had given him that impression, but it was not so.  How could it be when…she cared for Gervase?