Chapter 16

Travelling back to Arabella, Michael was torn. Mr Betez had insisted on accompanying him but had rejected the idea of bringing Mr MacFadden.

"She is likely to react badly if he is with us. You know how she is at seeing strangers."

"Before Wilson arrived, she was getting a little better."

"Then I hope it carries on when he is banished."

Not convinced of the truth in Mr Betez's statement, Michael kept quiet. Something so upsetting, especially as it was caused by the man he suspected that she still loved, was not something anyone would get over quickly. That she had been such a recluse would only make the rejection more keenly felt.

What was really concerning him was that he had no right to try and comfort her; he would have to stand by and watch her suffer. That was not going to be easy, and he knew that part of him wished that Wilson was a decent man with whom she could be happy, although it was a very small part that thought that. He longed to be the one protecting her, with the authority to throw out someone who could treat her so poorly, but he did not have that right.

When they arrived at the house, Arabella looked surprised but wary, whereas Grace looked excessively relieved. "Uncle, I was not expecting you. Is there something amiss?" Arabella asked.

"Can I not visit?"

"Of course you can, but as you usually do so only when there is a problem, and you have returned with Mr Follett, I can only assume that you have come with a purpose. From your expression, I am guessing that it will not be a pleasant visit."

"I have heard about all the good work you are doing on the estate and of your learning how to run it. I was over the moon to be told that."

There was a flicker of pleasant surprise, but all too soon, Arabella glowered at Michael. "And what other information has been passed on?"

"I am paying your steward very well. You cannot imagine I would fund him and not expect an occasional update."

Arabella raised her eyes to Michael. "Paid well? That explains why you were so happy to be here."

Michael opened his mouth to speak, but the door opened, and Philip walked in as if he owned the place.

He faltered slightly on seeing the two men seated in the room, but continued to cross the room to stand behind Arabella, placing a possessive hand on her shoulder. "You did not tell me that we were to have guests."

"I did not know," Arabella responded stiffly.

"Ah, I see. I thought you had reconsidered your temporary position here and left for good," he said to Michael.

Ignoring the growl of annoyance Mr Betez uttered at Philip's words, Michael shrugged. "I am not one to disappear when something becomes a little uncomfortable. I take my responsibilities seriously, and when I take on a commitment, I see it out to the end."

Philip's eyes narrowed, clearly understanding that there was a double meaning to Michael's words, but it was Arabella who spoke.

"Especially if you are being well paid. Tell me, Uncle, how much more than the going rate did you have to offer to entice Mr Follett to come and work for me? Double the usual wage?"

"That has nothing to do with anyone."

"I beg to differ, as this estate is mine."

"You were neglecting it, and I am your guardian and trustee."

"Until I turn thirty, which is fast approaching."

"And then she can do what she wishes," Philip said triumphantly.

Mr Betez stood and crossed to the side table, which Arabella always had stocked with whisky and brandy. Pouring himself a drink, he took a long gulp before looking at Philip. "She can, but it will not be what you intend to persuade her into."

"I would rather you not speak as if I am not here," Arabella snapped.

"Arabella, be calm," Grace appealed, sensing that whatever situation was coming to a head was going to hurt Arabella in some way.

"How can I, Grace, when once again, I am receiving veiled threats about what will happen if I do not do as instructed. I would not listen before, and I am certainly not about to be browbeaten into something which is against my will for a second time."

"Look what happened when you did not listen the last time!" Mr Betez exploded. "Because of this – this man – you are disfigured."

Arabella winced but stood and faced her uncle. "If you had not been so against my marrying Philip, I would not have felt forced into a corner. The question has to be, were my scars as a result of Philip or you?"

"You embarked on the foolish scheme!"

"I did, and every time I pass a looking glass, I am reminded of that, do not think that I have forgotten. But I refuse to let you control my life again."

"Until you turn thirty, I have every right." They were in a stand-off, letting out anger that had been building for years and which could only cause long-lasting damage if it continued. Grace and Michael stood as helpless bystanders while Philip looked on with undisguised glee.

"And then I can do as I wish. I can marry whomever I want to," Arabella said, hands on hips.

Mr Betez burst out laughing. "You think so, do you? I suppose he has already proposed? Have you said yes?"

"I have indeed proposed," Philip said. "You surely cannot be surprised that I have."

"But I have not yet said yes," Arabella said, flushing red at the look of annoyance Philip sent at her confession.

"Yet."

"It does not matter whether or not you have proposed," Michael said, unable to continue watching Arabella be torn between her uncle and the man who supposedly wanted to marry her.

"And why is that? Do you think you have a chance with her? As if she would look at someone so lowly as you," Philip mocked.

"At least I am not already married."

There was a shocked wariness in Philip's eyes, but he pushed on. "You dare to speak about my poor deceased wife?"

"She looked well enough when I saw her two days ago," Michael said. "Looked as if she had never had a day of illness in her life, apart from the times you inflicted wounds on her, if what her father said was true, which I have no reason to doubt."

"Why, you interfering…" Philip launched himself at Michael, but he was no match for a man raised working on the land. Michael pushed Philip away, and he tumbled to the floor. Philip might not be stronger than Michael, but he was agile and immediately jumped to his feet, aiming a punch in Michael's direction.

Blocking the punch, Michael landed one of his own, which sent Philip reeling. But he recovered and aimed a counterpunch. Grabbing Philip's fist, Michael twisted his arm, forcing it up Philip's back and grabbed the collar of his frock coat.

"Enough!" Michael snarled at Philip.

"My hands! They are my fortune! Get off my hands!" Philip screamed.

"Keep up with that noise, and I will hurt them," Michael promised. "I am restraining you, you idiot. I am escorting you off the premises, and if you come within ten miles of Miss Betez or her home, I will shoot you. Do you understand? You have been caught out. Go back to the hole you crawled out of."

As the two men moved towards the doorway, Arabella stood in front of them. She was deathly white, and Michael had an almost overwhelming urge to let Philip go while he wrapped her in an embrace until she smiled again.

"Why?" she asked Philip.

He shrugged, earning himself a stronger tug on his arm and causing him to scream in pain. "Does it matter?" he panted out.

"I want to know," Arabella said. She had not flinched at Michael's battle nor at Philip's scream. She just stared at Philip.

"I needed the money. Daisy's family stopped funding me, so I had to find another source. My talent is too great to go unseen."

Michael could hardly believe the arrogance of the man. "Funny that the owner of the gallery said that the only reason they allowed your work to be displayed was because they received a huge amount of blunt for them to show your paintings."

"That's a damned lie!"

"It is not. He actually said that your work was not up to standard, and when he told you, it resulted in a prolonged attack on his gallery. Repairs which your wife's parents paid for."

"You know nothing. You are a philistine!"

"I know enough to recognise a selfish prig and a fraud when I see one. Fancy deserting your wife and children just to prey on someone else."

Arabella had not looked at Michael the whole time he had been speaking, and when he moved to go around her, she stepped aside. Just as they were going through the door, she spoke. "It would not have mattered in the end. I was going to say no."

Philip tried to peer around Michael. "You are lying!"

"I am not. I realised that someone who could hand his children over to their grandparents and not actually know their ages was not the type of person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. For me, it was not about the money; it was that I did not like you."

Philip spat out a laugh. "That is hilarious coming from you! Do you truly see yourself in a looking gla— Argghh."

Michael continued to make Philip scream in pain as they walked the full length of the drive and out onto the main road that bypassed the estate. No one would ever know what went on between the two men when they separated, but on his return, Michael went straight to the kitchen and begged Mrs Johnson for some ice to wrap against his knuckles. She was more than happy to fuss over him, constantly assuring him that he had been a hero.

As the only picture in his mind's eye was the haunted look on Arabella's face, he felt the worst kind of cad for being a part of hurting her when she was already so vulnerable. He knew without doubt that this whole episode would set her back. He could only hope that she would forgive him eventually.