Chapter 25

Arabella walked around the corner of the house, across a small lawn and into the stable yard and stopped dead. In front of her was her curricle, well she thought it was the curricle, but it was completely covered in flowers of every kind. Standing at the head of the horses was Michael, smiling but looking wary at the same time. He had never looked so handsome. His clothes might not be the finest cut, his boots not cleaned until they were mirror-like, but his physique was that of a hardworking, capable man. One who was good to his core and had the type of eyes one would happily drown in. Add to that the gentlest of smiles, which could turn into a mischievous grin, he was the full package.

"What are you doing here?" she eventually asked, her heart racing at his appearance and what the decorated curricle could mean.

"Good morning, Miss Betez. I have a basket of delights supplied by the lovely Mrs Johnson, a tasty bottle of wine chosen by the capable Mr Sullivan, and myself as the expert horseman. If you would like to join me?"

"No, no, I am not getting on that thing," Arabella said, wanting to take a step back but unable to move for fear she might faint.

"This, Miss Betez, is a flower carriage, nothing to be afraid of. I will be right here with you."

"You cannot allow for freak accidents," Arabella said, looking at the curricle rather than Michael.

He approached her and held out his hand. "No, I cannot promise you that life will always be safe, but I can offer to be at your side every step of the way."

Arabella glared at him. "I seem to recall that you refused that offer, and it is no longer an option." She did not feel any pleasure at the slight wince he could not hide, but he said nothing in response to her remark.

Holding out his hand again, he smiled at her in the tenderest of ways. "Trust me? If for nothing else than for this ride. Whatever you decide, let me help you in this regard. Just one ride around the parkland, not on any of the public roads. Just us."

Arabella hesitated. Why did he do this to her? Why did he make her want him more than she had wanted anything in her life? Why did he push her to face whatever she was frightened of? Tentatively, she put her hand in his. "I am afraid."

"I will do everything I can to keep you safe."

"I know." The smile her words caused made her heart race even more. Every ounce of self-preservation was screaming at her to get away from the vehicle, to leave him and return to the safety of the house, but she knew that if she did, she would never fully recover. She had to take this step, and the reality was that she would not trust anyone else other than Michael to sit next to her while she at least tried to conquer her fears.

Michael escorted her to the mounting block and then led the horses and curricle to it. Climbing up before her, he reached down. "The first step is always the hardest."

Arabella sent him a mock glare. "And that comment is not patronising in the slightest."

Laughing at her, he pulled her hand through his arm when she was seated. "Stay close, Miss Betez. We are going to have the best of times."

Arabella was not sure in what context he meant, but she grabbed hold of him as he flicked the reins and the curricle moved forward. Michael easily manoeuvred out of the stables, and as they trundled in front of the house, Grace and Sullivan were standing at the door. Grace waved, smiling broadly, and although Sullivan did not demean his station by waving, he bowed his head in recognition.

"Grace knew about this, didn't she?" Arabella asked as Michael turned down the drive.

"Maybe," Michael said, shooting her a grin.

"There is no maybe about it. What a little sneaksby she is!"

"It took a few days to get this up to scratch, so I could not conceal my being here from everyone," Michael explained. "I was not going to take you out on something that would put you at risk of harm."

"And you are travelling at a snail's pace." Arabella could not help but choke out a laugh at the lack of speed. "Wait! You have been here for days?"

"Yes. I needed to take you away from the house; there is too much there that you can hide behind. In the parkland, we can enjoy the sunshine and relax."

"Have you ever relaxed, Mr Follett? You do strike me as a single-minded, work-focused person."

"I do not know what has happened these last few weeks, but people seem very willing to criticise my character," Michael huffed.

"Who has done that?"

"My father and others have said that I am boring."

Arabella burst out laughing at the expression on his face. "No! Really? Why did they say that?"

"I have no idea because it is not true."

She continued to laugh. "You do appear as steadfast."

"That is almost as bad as boring!"

"It is a compliment."

"If that is the best you can do, save your breath to cool your porridge."

"How rude!" She smiled at Michael's chuckle. He did not laugh enough, and she had the urge to be the one who made him laugh every day. That he had turned her down but was here now and acting like he was romancing her had her confused, hopeful and a little afraid that she was wrong. It had also temporarily distracted her from her fear of the vehicle.

Eventually, they came to the edge of the parkland. Before them was nothing but rolling hills, hedgerows separating the fields, some containing sheep, others arable land. Michael brought the horses to a stop.

"This is the perfect place to have our luncheon. No one around except us."

"You are being very risqué with my reputation, Mr Follett," Arabella said archly. She waited with some trepidation, clinging onto the rail of the seat, her knuckles turning white, when he jumped from the curricle and went around to lift her down.

"Do you mind my being careless with your reputation?" he asked as her feet touched the ground.

"I will let you know." Having the urge to lean into him in the hope that he would kiss her had her recollecting herself. She might be willing to join in with his teasing, but she was not about to throw herself at him. She had some self-preservation after what had happened the last time they were together. She was certainly not going to make any pronouncements or actions that could have him rejecting her again.

Michael took the basket from the rear of the carriage, laid a thick woollen rug on the grass, secured the horses and brought the basket to where Arabella was seated. "From the weight of this, I hope you are hungry."

"A little." She wanted to know his motive for bringing her out here, so she would have preferred if they had talked before eating, but she knew he would not answer her questions until he was ready. The way he was fussing over her made it seem he had been planning this in great detail, and she did not wish to spoil it.

They ate in silence, both enjoying the peace that embraced them. Apart from the occasional sound of the sheep in the distance and birdsong, it was quiet. When Arabella could eat no more, she put her napkin in the basket.

"Mrs Johnson has done it again, I thought I only wanted a little food, but I have eaten far too much."

"She is a marvel," Michael said. "Both she and Sullivan have helped me these last few days. I could not have arranged any of it without their assistance."

"I will need to have words with my staff about loyalties," Arabella said lazily, pulling at some daisies in the grass.

"I hope you will not need to."

Looking up at him, Arabella swallowed. "You need to say why you have brought me here," she said quietly, feeling vulnerable. "I need to know without any flummery. My heart cannot take it."

Taking hold of her hands, Michael turned to kneel in front of her. "Can you forgive me? For being so stupid and hurting you in the worst way possible?"

"You are entitled to refuse a proposal." She could not help the sad smile touch her lips.

"Yes, that is true, but I should not have done. I should have reacted the way my heart wanted me to act. It was screaming to gather you in my arms and accept you without hesitation."

"Yet you ignored what it was telling you."

"I did because I am a boring, steadfast fool who was so tied up with wanting to do what was right, I had forgotten that although it might be the right thing to do to consider the impact our marrying would have, it was not going to make either of us happy."

Arabella smiled. "You really have taken those comments to heart."

"It has helped me to see the reality of the situation."

"I do not really understand."

"I will explain all, but do you mind if I sit down again? Being on my knees for so long is more painful than I imagined."

Michael grimaced at her, and Arabella could not help her roar of laughter. "Add old to that list."

Growling at her, he continued. "I thought you deserved better. I considered myself not good enough."

"That is…"

"I know what you are going to say, and just saying the words will not convince me otherwise, in the way that when I say you are beautiful, you do not believe me."

"Touché," Arabella responded. "I am grateful that you say it, though."

Michael groaned. "I do not think that I will ever understand you should I know you for a lifetime, but I promise you this, if things turn out as I wish them to, I will tell you that you are beautiful every single day for the rest of our lives. And more importantly, I will mean it."

"Do you wish to know me that long?" This was it; she knew it was heading to the crux of the matter, but it did not prevent her heart from hammering in her chest in case there was a slight chance that she was still wrong.

"I do. Probably have done since the moment we met, though the thoughts were not coherent at that point. I just knew that I had to protect you, care for you, in whichever form that took."

"I do not wish to sound ungrateful, and I realise the evidence would point otherwise, but I do not need protecting. My friends would ridicule me if they heard me say that was the reason you were attracted to me."

"Oh bloody hell, why does this have to be so hard?" Michael grumbled. "I am trying to explain how deep my feelings were from the start. Are you always this frustrating and contradictory, or is it just towards me?"

"Of all the…" she started, bristling.

"Do. Not. Say. Another. Word."

She was silenced by his forceful tone; she had never heard him sound so annoyed before, and she probably should have stood up and walked away, but it was actually quite endearing. Raising her eyes to him, she clamped her lips shut and wriggled her eyebrows, teasing him without words.

"You really are a torment. I love you. From the first moment of seeing you my world changed and I knew that it would never be the same again. I had found my ideal, the person who would challenge me, yet bring out the best in me and I hope that I will do the same for you. I will strive to be worthy of your affection, but believe me when I say that I could not love you more. Will you marry me, Arabella?"

She did not speak, just stared at him until he sighed.

"You can answer my question."

"Yes."

"Thank goodness for that!"

Arabella did not have the time to think anything further; she was pulled toward Michael, and then he lay them both down on the rug, side by side and kissed her. He had kissed her before, but these kisses were different, reverent almost, as if he could not believe that she had agreed to say yes.

When she became a little braver, she reluctantly pulled away, needing to explain some of her feelings to him. She could not resist touching his cheek. "I am very glad you came back."

"So am I." He lifted himself so his head was resting on his hand, and she followed his pose, loving how close they were and how comfortable it felt.

"Will you stay, or do you have to return to your father?"

"I can stay."

"Are you sure? I do not wish your father to suffer because of my selfishness."

"If I returned to them without having secured you, I think they both would disown me."

Arabella laughed. "I liked your parents from the start."

"They felt the same about you, and I am glad of it, for the three of you are the most important people in my life. If the offer is still there to let them take up residence in the dower house, I am sure they would be grateful, as would I."

"I do not want their or your gratitude," Arabella huffed. "They are to be my family. I want them close to us so that we can take care of them."

"And I want to be close to you, my little adventuress."

"I am nothing of the sort."

"Do not tell such a Banbury tale. Your uncle warned me about you before I had even arrived here."

"And what, pray, did he say?" It was hard being indignant when lying across from the man you were going to marry, especially as he was curling wisps of her hair around his fingers as they spoke, but she tried her best to glare at him.

"He said I would get a double bonus if I did not get thrown off the estate on the first day."

"Why you rogue!" Arabella made a dive for him, but he caught her, only laughing until his lips touched hers. This time, his kisses were deeper, more demanding, promising passion that neither had yet experienced.

When Arabella shivered as the temperature dipped, Michael groaned. "I have neglected you. Come, it is time we returned."

"But I do not want to." Arabella pouted.

"You are not going to catch a chill because of your doxy tendencies."

Arabella punched him in the stomach, pleased that she had caused a surprised ‘oof' out of him. "I would only ever be a doxy with you."

"That, my sweet Arabella, is music to my ears." Michael kissed her before pulling her to her feet. "Come, let us put Grace, Sullivan and Mrs Johnson out of their misery. I am sure that they have been on pins since we drove away."

Arabella paused, her stomach sinking. "My uncle!"

"Leave him to me," Michael said.

"But you do not know how he will be. He will try and talk you out of it." Arabella panicked, thinking that her uncle would do anything in his power to stop the marriage if he did not agree with it.

"I promise you that I will bring him round," Michael said.

Arabella took a step back, hands on hips. "He knows."

"Knows what?" Michael asked.

"You absolute cur! How the devil did you manage to persuade him?" Arabella was grabbed around the waist and pulled in for another kiss before she could utter anything else.

"Your language leaves a lot to be desired, wife-to-be. I am almost shocked," Michael said, only releasing her when they were both breathless.

"With you tormenting the life out of me, are you really surprised?"

"Does this mean that I am not so boring after all?"

"Will you tell me how you managed to convince my uncle? And why you went to him without getting my agreement first?" Arabella was impressed that Michael had approached her uncle first but could not believe that her uncle had been compliant. It was not in his character to submit to another's wishes if he did not agree to the scheme.

"He is like a father figure to you," Michael started. "It was polite that I ask him for your hand in marriage."

"And he accepted that? Without argument?" Arabella's incredulity increased at the thought that her uncle had not objected. "He argues against everything to do with me."

Michael sighed. "In the spirit of not wishing us to have any secrets, I have a confession to make. He actually begged me to marry you, said he would be grateful for someone else to take responsibility for you, that he had suffered enough."

"Of all the…" Arabella stomped off to the curricle in mock outrage, not seeing the secretive smile Michael had on his face as he followed her.