Chapter 23

"What on earth has happened?" Grace asked.

"You mean apart from my asking to marry Michael and him turning me down? Not a lot really."

Grace choked on a surprised laugh. "No! You did not!"

Arabella might be feeling mortified, but she could see the humour in the situation. "Of course I did, though I will probably blush about it for the rest of my days."

"Oh, Arabella, if only we all had your courage."

"Stupidity, more like. He could not get out of the room fast enough."

"I imagine it came as somewhat of a surprise."

"To both of us. I did not start out with the intention of doing something so foolish, believe me. If I had considered it before opening my mouth, I obviously would never have said anything so ridiculous."

"Do not say that! If it is how you feel, then there is nothing wrong with being honest."

"Except he will never come back to the estate now, terrified that I might entrap him."

"A man does not so easily allow himself to be entrapped," Grace soothed. "Give him time to think about it."

"He was right about one thing, Uncle would probably have apoplexy."

"Probably more about you proposing than who you wanted to marry."

"No, he wants the best for me, and that probably involves a title at the very least. He is probably still under the illusion that I would be considered a suitable bride."

"Are you saying that you asked Mr Follett to marry you because you think he is the best you can do?" Grace asked, tone serious.

"Good grief, no!" Arabella exclaimed.

"That is a relief. In that case, give him time to ponder what you have offered."

"I hope he will allow his parents to come and stay in the dower house; they deserve to have a long period of recuperation."

"It will be a while before Mr Follett senior is strong enough to travel anywhere."

"I know, and being here now will only cause more problems than it solves. I think it is time to make plans to return home."

"Why not give it a couple more days? See how things evolve when you have both had time to mull it over."

"No, I have done enough damage. Mr Follett is on the road to recovery. Let me make the offer of the dower house to Mr and Mrs Follett and then we will leave on the morrow." Arabella did not want to go; she wanted to beat Michael's chest until he gave in and said that he would never leave her side again, but she had enough self-respect to stop herself from begging him. A pity she had not been able to hold onto that self-respect when they were speaking. She really could be a ninnyhammer.

***

Michael knew they were leaving because of the conversation they had shared, but he could not ask her to stay. He was a bloody fool, there was no question about it, but how could he have accepted what she had proposed out of pity for him?

She was being na?ve if she thought a marriage would be accepted between them. Even the servants would object to a fellow servant lording it over them as head of a grand estate. There was a strict hierarchy in all areas of life, and he could not break out of his, but for the first time ever, he no longer felt content with his life.

He was torn between ruing the day he had met Arabella and clinging onto every thought of her, for he knew he was never going to see her again. He could not allow himself to, or he might weaken and agree to a marriage.

When Arabella and Grace departed, the house seemed empty and too quiet. He was sitting with his father, who could now sit up for short periods of time, when his mother came into the bedchamber.

"I was surprised at your cool farewell," she said to Michael. "They deserve our eternal gratitude for what they have done for us."

"They do," Michael acknowledged.

"Ah, he's pining, that's what it is," Mr Follett croaked out.

"Then I hope you will accompany us when we travel to take up the kind offer Arabella made." Mrs Follett smiled. "She was so sweet about it and would not take no for an answer. We are to stay in one of the houses on the estate, without a worry in the world, for an extended period. She tried to say that it was forever, but I know it cannot be."

"You are taking her up on the offer?" Michael was astounded that his mother had accepted such charity.

"Of course. It was too generous an offer, but when she said what a debt she owed you and told me of the times you had helped her so much, even to the extent of giving her the courage to travel here, how could I refuse? She pleaded at one point, saying that to have family around her would be of more benefit to her than it would to us. How could I say no to such sweet, heartfelt words?"

Michael felt like a dagger had been twisted in his heart. He knew how lonely Arabella was, and he had told her that it was wrong to invite his parents. Yet again, it was a poor show on his part, but the guilt he felt would not let him forget his decisions for a long time.

"Grace also had a quiet word with me," Mrs Follett confessed. "She said we would be doing Arabella a great service by visiting her. When she described some of what she had gone through and how isolated she has been, not wanting her friends to stay, Grace explained how much of a change her inviting us was. Arabella might be offering us a kind gesture, but we are helping her in the process."

"I suppose so. She does not normally have visitors."

"No idea why, she's a becoming little thing," Mr Follett said, his voice still a shadow of what it had been.

Mrs Follett raised her eyebrows at her husband. "I will be keeping an eye on you when we visit. It seems I will have to watch your roving eye."

"Not at all. There is only one woman for me, and she has the prettiest brown eyes I ever did see." Mr Follett winked at his wife, clearly exhausted by the long sentence.

"That is better," Mrs Follett approved like only a wife of many years can accept the teasing of her husband. "Now to get you some of that tea."

Mr Follett groaned. "I hate that tea."

"It has saved your life, so I will have no arguments." Mrs Follett left the father and son together.

"Are you going to tell me what is going on?" Mr Follett asked Michael.

"What do you mean?" Michael did not quite meet his father's eyes and hoped his mother would not be long, for it was clear that his father had not raised the subject in front of his wife.

"Do not try to pull the wool over my eyes, boy. You have been mooning after that girl, and she you, the whole time she has been here. Now what has made her hurry away? And answer me, for I cannot continue to argue with you. I have not the breath for it."

Michael immediately handed his father a cup of water. "Drink this and try not to exert yourself. The last thing we want is for you to have a relapse."

"Then tell me," came the croaked reply.

Sighing, Michael knew he would not get any peace from his father unless he told him what had happened between Arabella and himself. The man missed nothing, which had been a bind when he was a mischievous boy and was worse now he was a grown man.

Sitting back down when his father had finished taking a few sips of water, he told him everything. From first meeting Arabella until and including what she had said about marrying him. He left nothing out, though he had never revealed anything so personal to his father prior to this.

As he finished, his mother returned, and although she waited while her husband drank the tea, she did not remain in the room. Now there was only two of them providing care, there was not the luxury of both of them spending time in the sick room together.

Michael remained silent when his mother left. He had told his father everything and was not keen to carry on. He was hoping that his father would sleep now, but he was not to be so fortunate.

"She asked you to marry her, and you love her, yet you refused her. Why?"

"I have already told you my reasoning."

"She did not see it as a problem."

"Stop talking. You are losing the tiny amount of colour it has taken an age to get back in your cheeks. I am not going to be responsible for you having a relapse."

Mr Follett glowered at his son. "She probably knew that if she didn't ask you, you would never have the courage to ask her."

Michael wanted to jump up and start pacing the room, but after his father had spoken, he had closed his eyes, and he did not wish to disturb him.

Eventually, his father looked at him once more. "You have always been a good boy who turned into a decent man, but that is costing you your future."

"Are you saying that I am boring?"

Mr Follett shrugged shoulders which were nothing but bone. "Not a risk taker."

"That is a yes then. How can I even try to take that step? Mr Betez is a very protective uncle. He would crucify me if he even suspected I had any thoughts about his niece, let alone accepting her marriage proposal."

"You say she is nearly of an age when she has control over her fortune."

"I am no fortune hunter."

"No, but she can make her own decisions."

"We are talking over something that is not going to happen. I said no, she has gone, we will not meet again. It is over."

Mr Follett shook his head at his son but closed his eyes. Michael was relieved when he detected his father's steady breathing of sleep. He had spoken with more finality than he would normally, for he could see his father fighting the tiredness in order to speak to him.

Left to ponder what his father had said, it did not offer any comfort on reflection. He had always tried to do his best, to be decent and honourable. One thing was certain, his judgement about the right course of action might have been the right decision, but it was most definitely the more painful one. He was not sure how he was ever going to face a life without seeing Arabella and all her complexities, each one as loveable and annoying as the next.