Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Next morning, Arabella awoke with a headache and feeling very out of sorts. She'd found it hard to sleep and only drifted off eventually after tossing and turning for hours. Before going to bed, she'd spent a long time staring out the window at the starry sky above.

I need to remember that I am a mother. I'm no longer a young slip of a girl looking for love; those days are past me now.

The trouble was that she'd been caught up in a fledgling romance. Her attention had been caught by the Duke of Montbury. When he'd spoken those words to her during the evening at the Beehive Tavern, she had felt like that young girl again; her mind and body had responded in a way she recognized as love. She had spent almost two years remembering Edward and treasuring their memories. She knew exactly how she had felt in their first days of love. The same feelings she recognized for the duke.

Yesterday, she had felt so close to him as they walked next to the lake.

I believed him. I believed every word he said to me. I trusted that he would help me with the case Christopher has lodged against me. I felt that stirring, that closeness, and it felt right.

For a moment it had felt sublime. She'd left the lake with a skip in her step and taken the longer route home, enjoying the sun shining on her face.

She'd seen him on the other path, which led back to the castle. She'd been about to call and wave when she'd stopped, frozen at the sight of another figure joining him. Arabella knew she felt wary around The Duchess of Wyndale.

The duchess had made her dislike of her very clear indeed. The Duchess of Wyndale was engaged to Robert's brother Simon, so Arabella couldn't understand why the duchess had such antipathy towards her.

Her heart had almost stopped beating when she saw them fall into each other's arms. She had been rooted to the spot, staring at the duke holding the duchess in his arms.

As her body unfroze, and she could feel her legs again, she turned away and began to walk quickly back to Horton Hall. As she raced up the hill towards the path to the village, she broke into a run. She felt the breeze against her skin, ignoring the tears streaming down her face, totally unaware that she had let out a loud, keening scream.

She only realized when she heard the noise and realized it was coming out of her mouth. A loud, desperate cry of grief and loss. The cumulation of months of continual anxiety about Christopher Farrington and the end of hope of a new love with the duke.

She'd pleaded a headache and retired to her room. She'd gone to read to Henry, knowing that it would settle him for the night.

Tabitha … I'd forgotten all about the cottage. I wish her all happiness, but what on earth am I going to do without her?

Last night, Arabella had felt as if the whole world was crashing down on her shoulders. She wanted to curl up in a tight ball and shut out the emotional tumult of the day.

This morning, she felt distant, further away from her feelings. A barrier had formed between her and the world, giving her space to grieve for lost hope.

The barrier she had built didn't last long. She breakfasted in her room on a tray, then made her way down to a small sitting room to occupy herself with some sewing. She could lose herself darning holes in Henry's play clothes.

Following a tap on the door, it opened, and Aunt Grace's head appeared, tentatively asking if she could join her. Arabella nodded; she wanted to be alone, but she knew her aunt meant well.

"My dear, we're all a little worried. You don't seem yourself. Is it this business with that wretched Christopher Farrington?" asked Aunt Grace.

Arabella couldn't find any words to reply, so her aunt continued, "Joseph and I are determined that he will never remove Henry from our care. Your uncle has contacted friends in London who have influence. We are confident that sense will prevail."

"Christopher doesn't want Henry. There has to be more to it. I believe he must want control of Henry's fortune," confided Arabella.

"Your uncle thinks the same, as does the Duke of Montbury."

"His Grace? I'm confused."

Arabella thought that perhaps she had misheard her aunt as she mentioned the Duke of Montbury. She froze as she held the needle and thread before moving and pricking her finger with the needle. She didn't know what to think. The duke had told her that he would give his full support in the battle to keep Henry at Horton Hall.

She still felt surprised that he had spoken with her uncle and would help in the fight against Christopher. And his motivation? Could it be that developing connection between them? Arabella was glad she did not need to stand up as she suspected she would feel quite weak in the knees.

"He has just been here. He came very early to speak with your uncle. It seems you talked with him yesterday and gave him permission to speak with Joseph."

Of course. She'd done that before she'd seen him holding the Duchess of Wyndale. She nodded, unsure what else to do or say.

"He seems a kind man. He's told your uncle he wants to help in any way he can. I believe he has an attachment to Henry, and I suspect, and I say this as your aunt, that he cares deeply for you also."

Arabella, still unsure what to say, but conscious that the duke's feelings were not what she'd thought they were, just nodded.

"Apparently, the duke has a solicitor in Harrogate who has instructed men to look into Christopher Farrington's affairs in London, specifically this case he has lodged at the court. The duke has sent a messenger asking his solicitor to visit here tomorrow, and he will come to Horton Hall," Aunt Grace informed Arabella.

"He has contacts and resources we don't have. Your uncle is a rich man with good friends in the city, but he doesn't have the reach or influence of a peer of the realm."

Arabella caught her breath. She wanted to tell her aunt that she wanted no help from the Duke of Montbury. But in a whisper of a moment, she knew that Henry was too important to let her personal feelings stand in the way of any help. If the duke had contacts who could assist her case, then she would not stand in his way.

"My dear, I don't wish to pry, but I feel there is something you're not telling me. Your dear mama always said I was a good listener. She isn't here for you, so I'd like to stand in her place."

"Oh, Aunt Grace," Arabella said to her godmother. "It is so difficult to explain. I may even have imagined some of it."

"Try telling me about it, my dear. It may help," Aunt Grace urged.

Arabella took a sharp, inward breath, then stared into space for several seconds before deciding to confide in her aunt.

"I wasn't looking for love. Since Edward died, you know that I've focused only on Henry. At first, it was all about coping with the grief of Edward's sudden death. Henry and Edward were so close. We used to do everything together as a family and rarely went to London. Looking back, it was an idyllic life, and when Edward was taken ill and then gone so suddenly, it hit Henry hard."

"You've been very brave, my dear, for a long time," Aunt Grace reassured her.

"It wasn't difficult keeping going for my son. It got more difficult when Christopher began to manage the household budget and veto many essential expenses. Soon after that, the legal letters began to arrive, and it became evident that he was determined to become Henry's sole guardian.

"Edward hadn't wanted to name Christopher as co-guardian in his will, but it is rarely possible for a woman to take that duty alone. He thought he was protecting Henry and me by placing his cousin as an arm's length guardian," explained Arabella.

"In recent months, the steady stream of increasingly scary legal letters, followed by the announcement that Christopher and Violet would be moving into Farrington Hall, was too much for me to bear." Tears streamed down her face. The well of emotion finally overflowed.

Aunt Grace took her hand and kept listening, knowing that it was important for Arabella to talk about it.

"I truly believe Christopher is determined to gain control of Henry's inheritance, and I stand in his way. The allegations have been exaggerated, but usually based on a small incident, which did take place. Henry is a child who thrives on adventure, and he does get into scrapes. When I read the accounts in the legal letters, I knew that at least one person in my household must be feeding Christopher information."

"The spies. I believe you are right in thinking that. I also believe, as does Joseph, that Christopher paid for his information."

"We had a large establishment of household and estate staff. I had no idea who the spy, or spies, were."

Aunt Grace poured her a cup of herbal tisane. "Drink this and take a breath. We will deal with Christopher Farrington, and I truly believe the Duke of Montbury will add weight to that fight," she tried to reassure Arabella.

As she heard the duke's name, Arabella's face turned ashen. "I can't say no to his help, Aunt Grace. I'll accept anything that will keep Henry here at Horton Hall. I just wish it wasn't him."

"I thought that evening at the Beehive Tavern that you seemed, I'm not sure how to phrase this, but quite close. You seemed to enjoy his company. I know he's been helping with the boys' project. And Emma does gossip a little, and she told me she suspected there might be an evolving romance."

Arabella took her flimsy lace-edged handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. "You're right in all you say." Her fingers worked on the lace edging as she thought about what to say next.

"I began to feel close to Robert, to the duke. It's difficult to talk about it, but I knew there was something special," admitted Arabella. "It seemed too soon, and I enjoyed his company but was cautious. Also, if you remember, we didn't get off to a great start. He almost accused me of being responsible that day when he took a fall from his horse in the woods. Although he later apologized for his harsh words."

"And rightly so," interjected Aunt Grace. "If anyone was to blame that day, it was Emma, and even then, I find it is impossible always to know where Henry is. He does get these plans and ideas, and you blink, and he's gone."

"That's a very good way of putting it," said Arabella, the ghost of a smile appearing on her face.

"Yesterday, the duke and I walked together along the lake path." Her breath sounded a little ragged, and her aunt patted her hand gently.

"I told him about the latest legal letter, and he promised his help," Arabella continued. Tears began to fall silently down her cheeks, and her aunt waited for her to say more.

"I felt something for him. As we walked along the lakeside, I knew he felt something for me, too. I knew that I loved him," Arabella felt relief at confiding in Aunt Grace.

"Arabella, there is nothing wrong with loving a man. You deserve a second chance of happiness in life. There is no need to feel guilty about this. It's what Edward would have wanted for you." Aunt Grace spoke gently, with quiet forcefulness.

"I know; I've been thinking about this since he came here for the soiree that evening. He left soon after we returned to the party. I knew he would be speaking to his lawyers again about Henry's case. I'm anxious about Christopher Farrington, but I felt alive, excited, looking forward to seeing the duke again."

Arabella paused, and Aunt Grace handed her another handkerchief, which she took and twisted around her fingers.

Arabella continued, "As I made my way back to Horton Hall, I saw the duke in the distance, and I was about to wave when another figure approached him. That elegant lady who is staying at the castle, The Duchess of Wyndale. I know he was once engaged to her and that she abandoned him for his brother."

Grace nodded, tender concern etched across her face.

"She drew close to the duke, and he held her in his arms. It must have been an embrace. I can't see that it could have been anything else," Arabella told Aunt Grace, the despair evident in her voice.

"I see. It seems very strange to me. I rather like him, and your uncle thought he seemed genuine this morning. But you saw him take The Duchess of Wyndale in his arms. Can I ask what happened then? Did he see you?" asked Aunt Grace.

"I don't know. I ran away. I screamed, so he may have noticed me. I honestly don't know."

"Well, it seems to me that you must tread carefully. You are very fragile; I'm worried, Arabella. We need to make sure you have space and time to feel stronger. It's impossible for anyone to keep bouncing back after endless traumatic events. Think about all that's happened, with your leaving your home and moving here, plus the anxiety around Christopher Farrington. That in itself is too much."

Grace re-filled her cup with hot tisane and sat back in her chair, mulling over what she had heard.

"You have been through a difficult time, and the legal issues are a cloud over all our heads. On top of this, you thought you had a possibility of love, and then you saw the man you cared for holding another woman in his arms. It's too much, my dear. I'm in awe of how you are coping with this."

"I'm foolish, to even think of loving again. I have no idea how I got into this emotional mess. It just felt right. And he has been such a positive influence on Henry," explained Arabella.

"Which is why you are going to have to be brave and keep that contact with the castle. It will mean that you keep seeing the duke," Aunt Grace warned her.

"I know, and you're right. Henry thrives in the duke's company. I can't tear that away from him."

"You're right, you can't. Love is a very strange thing. Think of all the poetry, novels, and music it has inspired. I still think there is something very odd about what you saw," pondered Aunt Grace. "Time will tell, I suppose."

"And you've just reminded me that I haven't written for ages," Arabella said with a start. "I'm going to go into a quiet place in the garden and see if I can write a verse or two."

As she rose, Aunt Grace came towards her and took her in her arms. "This will pass, and you know we all love you and Henry too."

***

Arabella returned to the strategies that had helped after Edward had died. She followed routine and concentrated on what was in front of her, whether that was a person she was talking to or a job she was doing. Aware she felt anxious and irritable, she took as many walks alone as she could and spent time in far corners of the house or garden writing her verses.

Strangely, was the only thing going well. Her poetry flowed, and she knew it was good quality.

I suspect I'll have another volume published soon, she thought, with a quiet satisfaction that she had not lost her ability to write her verses.

She walked to the village to post some samples of her recent work to Eagleton and Fraser, her publishers in London and felt that quiet satisfaction as she handed over her letter at the Beehive for the new postal system, which had made life so much easier.

Emma was busy assisting the Reverend Colbrooke, and the boys were increasingly out on the lake, sketching the shoreline from the water or fishing with a net, which meant most of their catch could be thrown back, always after necessary scientific study. Henry thrived under Nathaniel's tutelage and his growing friendship with Freddy.

Arabella would be meeting Aunt Grace and Emma at the haberdashery in a few minutes, as they had an appointment with Mrs Cribbage to decide on their gowns for the midsummer ball at Castle Montbury.

She walked towards the haberdashery shop, daydreaming, in a world of her own. She had become adept at filling her mind with thoughts of anything other than the Duke of Montbury and that fair Duchess of Wyndale.

"Arabella," called a voice, and she came back to reality with a start.

"Elinor, how lovely to see you. I had some time to spare, so I was posting a letter before going to the haberdashers to meet Emma and Aunt Grace."

"I was going to call later, so I'm glad we've bumped into each other," said Elinor. "I was going to take you up on your offer to help plan the ball. Also, Freddy keeps talking about this treasure hunt. He says we offered to row him and Henry over to the island on the lake. I'd totally forgotten."

"You're right; we did promise the boys a trip to the island, and it had totally slipped my mind," replied Arabella. "I know they've been across to the island with Nathaniel and Emma. Unfortunately, I've been a little under the weather the last couple of days."

"You need to look after yourself, Arabella," Elinor told her, concern in her voice. "You don't need to help with the ball. I'd rather you got fully well."

"It's alright; I feel much better now. I'm pretty much recovered, and I want to help." Arabella smiled at her friend. "We have got a lot to do, though. There's planning a treasure hunt, a trip to the island, and a ball," she added, smiling.

"Before we do all that, did I hear say you were going to Mrs Cribbage's haberdashery? I'll come with you. I'm still thinking of a new gown for the ball. What are you going to wear?"

"I don't know. I left my home at Farrington Hall at short notice, so most of my gowns, the ones I used to wear in town, got left behind. I'm meeting Aunt Grace and Emma there in a few minutes. Why don't you join us? I can walk over to the castle with you afterwards to talk about the treasure hunt and work on plans for the ball."

"If you're sure?" replied Elinor.

"Aunt Grace and Emma will both be glad to see you, and Mrs Cribbage gets more business, so she won't mind," Arabella reassured her with a smile.

"I'll join you then. I wasn't planning on getting a new gown, but then The Duchess of Wyndale told me she is having her seamstress sent up from London to work on her gown here. It sounds very grand. I have gowns I could wear, but they are several years old, and I don't want to look dowdy at Mama's special event."

"Especially as you are the one doing most of the organizing." Arabella laughed. "Come on; let's find you a gown. I can see Aunt Grace just entering the shop, and there's Emma running across the village green."

The next hour was delightful. Mrs Cribbage settled them with a pot of tea, and ably assisted by her two head seamstresses, she worked through each gown individually. There were fashion plates to browse through and light conversation with much laughter. Exactly what Arabella needed.

Aunt Grace chose a dark maroon colour in heavy silk with a matching turban complete with a feather to blend with the dress.

"The colour really suits you, Mama," said Emma. "You will not be short of dancing partners! Papa might be jealous," she added, smiling.

"Hush, child, though I believe that I might look rather fine," said her mother, holding the silk in her hands and feeling the texture of the heavy material.

"Now it's your turn, Miss Emma," said Mrs Cribbage, summoning Emma to look at colours and fabrics. "You haven't been presented at court yet or had your first season in London, I believe, so you should wear white. However, we have different shades, and I think you could have a yellow or light blue sash if you wanted. That's quite appropriate for a young lady."

Emma pored over the bolts of cloth, and Aunt Grace went to join her. "I think that crisp white muslin, which is so bright it almost has a hint of blue, would suit you," suggested Aunt Grace.

"I do like it. Could I have a blue panel around the bodice, Mama?" suggested Emma.

"I don't see why not. Would that be possible, Mrs Cribbage?"

"Indeed, yes, we could easily put a blue panel for the bodice. Would you like an overskirt of matching blue, Miss? I believe that's suitable for a young lady like you."

Emma looked at the light blue gauzy material and held it against the white. "I think I would like an overskirt in blue. What do you think, Mama?"

"I think it would suit you very well. Have you ribbons to match the muslin, Mrs Cribbage?" asked Aunt Grace.

Several ribbons were set out on the counter, and Aunt Grace chose one that was a close match. "I think ribbons in your hair would be most appropriate. And I know you are going to look quite lovely. Lady Elinor, I believe you should choose next."

"I think it is going to be a difficult choice. I don't want to look too matronly at this ball. I feel quite frivolous at the moment, knowing the war has now ended. I wondered about something in yellow, not lemon, but perhaps a darker shade of yellow?" suggested Elinor.

"Here are some different shades of yellow," said Mrs Cribbage, getting out some new bolts of cloth. "I also have some bolts of a burnt sienna shade as well. That's quite new this season," she suggested.

"I like the burnt sienna. I think I'll have it made up as a gown for the winter, but I think something lighter and more suitable for summer for this ball," replied Elinor as she examined the different fabrics. She pointed at a bolt of a deeper, honeysuckle yellow colour. "This is lovely, and the silk isn't too heavy. Have you any lace that would blend with this silk, Mrs Cribbage?"

By chance, there was some Belgium lace, which was an almost perfect match. "I'd like the sleeves and bodice covered with this lace, if possible?" Elinore asked hopefully.

"Of course, the colour is going to suit your complexion very well indeed. A perfect choice," added Aunt Grace.

"Now Arabella, you need to come and choose something. I'm determined you shall have a new gown for this ball," said Aunt Grace with determination. "Have you any idea about colour or cloth?"

"Perhaps a deep rose pink or even a print in green? I hardly know what suits me anymore," admitted Arabella.

Mrs Cribbage looked at Arabella. "Either colour would suit you. I have a green floral print; it's a little darker than usual with some gold thread running through the material. It would bring out those golden glints in your green eyes," declared Mrs Cribbage, sending one of the seamstresses into the back room. They returned with the bolt of cloth.

"Look here, the fine, spidery gold thread gives quite a luminous glow to the fabric. It isn't silk, it's a sprig muslin, so it's light as a feather," pointed out Mrs Cribbage.

"It's beautiful. Almost like golden gossamer thread. The sunrise in a forest scene," enthused Arabella.

"Well, that's a decision then," said Aunt Grace. "Could you make a head dress to match Lady Farrington's gown?" she asked Mrs Cribbage. "I have the turban with a feather; Emma shall have ribbons, but I think something more individual for Arabella."

"Of course." Mrs Cribbage nodded her agreement. "I have an idea for that."

Aunt Grace turned towards Elinor. "And you, my dear. Have you a head dress that will go with your gown? "

"Now that you mention it, no. I usually wear my wedding tiara, but I did want a lighter, more summery feel this time. Mrs Cribbage, could I have something made with the lace you are using for the bodice and sleeves of my gown?"

Mrs Cribbage nodded once again; she was never seen to be unprepared, and took out some fashion plates for Elinor and Arabella to look at designs of head dresses.

As the door jangled when they left the shop, they found the sun shining brightly on the village green. Aunt Grace and Emma set off to walk back to Horton Hall while Arabella joined Elinor on the pathway to Castle Montbury.

As they walked towards the vicarage, Arabella looked across the village green and felt glad that she lived here in Montbury, surrounded by family and now with this new friendship with Elinor.

Elinor occasionally resembled her brother, the duke, in subtle ways. Sometimes, she smiled in a way that reminded Arabella of the duke. They both ran their fingers through their hair when they were thinking.

It's so strange that I think about him so many times, but it feels quite usual now, as though it is part of my everyday life. I guess that he is part of my life now. Maybe at some point, I could ask Elinor about Robert and Rosalind. She almost said something but pulled back. It weighed on her mind that Rosalind was engaged to Simon but felt a pull of possession towards Robert.

She realized Elinor was talking to her and she had been many miles away. Of course … she's talking about preparations for the ball and ideas for the decorations. Arabella pulled herself back to the present moment and listened to Elinor.

"We can now think about decorations linked to the theme of the ball," said Elinor. "I once went to Vauxhall pleasure gardens and liked those lanterns hanging from the trees. So, I wondered about hanging lanterns from the trees around the castle garden. It could be quite fun for the guests as they would have to walk across the drawbridge over the moat."

"That does sound fun," agreed Arabella. "You could have lanterns hung around the entrance hall to welcome guests, too," she suggested.

Elinor continued, "I also had an idea while we were in the haberdashery shop. In fact, it was choosing material that made me think of this. We could hang swathes of coloured fabric around the ballroom and dining area. I'm thinking of something like a sail on a boat. It could be simple muslin fabrics; it wouldn't need to be silk or satin."

"I like that idea," agreed Arabella. "You could also twist some long muslin strings around the room," she suggested. "Yet, as I thought that, I wonder why we can't do the same as we used to at Christmas and bring foliage in from the woods to decorate the house?"

"Arabella, I believe you are on to something. It is a midsummer ball, and we could bring the woodland into the house. If we are lucky with the weather, then we have the lantern light in the courtyard and garden. It will look lovely, yet the design is very simple.

"The estate workers can bring in the foliage and help the household staff put up the decorations. It shouldn't take more than a morning. The challenge will be finding enough lanterns. We are running out of time," added Elinor.

"You live in a castle, so you could have rush torches outside along the walls. I believe they are simple to make," Arabella said, warming to the task.

"I'll ask Jason Brown about it. In fact, I believe I'll put him in charge of organizing the rush torches and the foliage," said Elinor.

"The theme can be the same throughout all the rooms. You're doing the same as you would at Christmas, but with different garlands. You could even tuck some flowers into the garlands."

"I'm getting quite excited," said Elinor. "I was a little worried, I confess after Mama decided to abandon a formal supper for her hot finger buffet. I wondered if people would think we hadn't bothered as much."

"Far from it. I believe it's quite a clever idea. I've always found taking several hours out of a ball to sit and eat at the table tedious. This way, there will still be an abundance of food, with lots of choices, and we can all dance for much longer," Arabella reassured Elinor.

"Perhaps next time we meet, we could think about how I instruct Chalston, the butler, and our housekeeper, Mrs Slater to set up this supper table. I would like it to link with the other decorations. As it is a new approach, it needs to look impressive."

"I don't think it will be difficult. It's going to look like an enchanted forest. I suspect this will be a fairy tale ball," Arabella encouraged Elinor.

"Oh, Arabella. I do hope so." Elinor clapped her hands in delight. "Thank you so much for helping me."

"I've enjoyed it. I know it has quite lifted my spirits," Arabella replied.

"That's good. Now I'm going to ask for some tea and a light luncheon to be served on the terrace. While we eat we can now think of some clues for this treasure hunt."

"I know Nathaniel and Emma have been working on some clues. I think it will take Freddy and Henry most of the day to find the treasure. They are going to have such fun," added Arabella.

"I haven't been to the island on the lake for many years, but I do remember it quite vividly," Elinor said. "Jason Brown has been over there with a team, clearing some bracken and brambles."

Arabella felt her body relax as they sat outside, waiting for lunch. The duke and his mother had taken the carriage to Harrogate, so there was no possibility of an awkward conversation. She didn't know how she could face the duke after seeing him embracing the duchess.

Elinor's brother, Lord Orsdale, stopped to talk, and Arabella noticed the strong family resemblance in facial features. However, Lord Orsdale's curly hair gave him a more youthful appearance.

"We're planning a treasure hunt for the boys," Elinor told her brother. "I'm thinking some of the adults might like to be involved. We could have a whole day event with a picnic."

"I like the idea. If it's before the ball, then Rosalind and I will still be here," Lord Orsdale replied.

"It will probably be later this week or early next," Elinor informed him.

"Excellent. There's Rosalind, I'll tell her." He called to The Duchess of Wyndale, and Arabella felt her relaxed mood draining away with the stab of uneasiness she had always felt in the duchess' presence.

I've always felt uncomfortable in her presence. It's strange because I'm a gentlewoman and used to being in society, but I always feel she is looking down at me. It's even more difficult seeing her with Lord Orsdale, while knowing she has been in his brother's arms.

The greetings were polite enough. Arabella began asking the duchess about her gown for the ball.

"Oh, Madame Descartes arrives tomorrow. She will design and make my gown here. She may even start on my trousseau if we are to stay here longer," the duchess answered casually.

"I'm sure you will be the belle of the ball," said Arabella quietly.

"Elinor, I wondered if you'd like Madame Descartes to design your gown? I'm sure she'd be happy to," the duchess asked.

"Oh, I've just ordered mine this morning," replied Elinor.

"Really? Has your mama taken your order to Harrogate?" enquired the duchess.

"Oh no, Mrs Cribbage, the dressmaker in the village will make it. I've chosen the design."

"Oh, my dear, you can't possibly be serious. Mrs Cribbage?" said the duchess, her disapproval obvious.

"Rosalind, you are more used to London society than I am, with my quiet life here in Yorkshire. Most of my gowns are made in the village," Elinor told her.

"And you, er, Lady Farrington?" The duchess turned to Arabella.

"Oh, Mrs Cribbage's establishment for me as well," Arabella replied nonchalantly.

"How quaint you both are. Mrs Cribbage at the haberdashery. If you change your mind, I'm sure Madame Descartes will oblige," the duchess said and laughed disparagingly.

She walked away, holding Lord Orsdale's arm, laughing about Mrs Cribbage and how different things were in Yorkshire.

As soon as she had disappeared, Elinor looked at Arabella and raised her eyes to the sky. "She clearly thinks we are misguided in using Mrs Cribbage for our gowns."

"Erm, I think the word she used was quaint. I'm confident Mrs Cribbage will work wonders with those beautiful fabrics."

"She always has before," said Elinor.

"Now, let's think of another clue for the treasure hunt," continued Elinor. "Then I'm going to ask that you be taken home in the gig. You haven't been well, and Lady Thraxton is right when she says that you need to look after yourself, as well as everyone else."

If truth be told, Arabella did feel a little out of sorts. Whenever she spoke with The Duchess of Wyndale, she felt as though the energy had been sucked out of her. "I do feel a little tired today," she replied. "The blue-devil has beset me for several days. The headache has gone, but my mood is a little low."

Elinor laughed. "I don't think you've met our nanny yet. She looked after the three of us and tends to keep upstairs in the nursery these days. I've taken on a nursery maid to do the running around with Freddy, but Nanny or Nurse as she prefers to be called, will always be the one in charge.

"Anyway, sorry I've wandered off the point. Nurse has an expression for how you've been feeling, now what is it? Ah, ‘blue as megrim', when you feel a little low and have a bad headache."

"I haven't met your nurse, but that expression is exactly how I've been feeling this week."

"Well, I won't introduce you today, or she'll be dosing you up with castor oil. It's her cure-all for most ailments," Elinor warned Arabella.

"Henry is very excited to be staying here for the ball," Arabella said.

"Freddy, too. It will help them to feel a part of it. Now, if I'm not mistaken, that's Mama and Robert returned."

Arabella felt her heart plummet to her knees. How ridiculous, I'm no moon-struck girl. Yet she held on to the arms of her chair, feeling the polished wood slipping under her hands as they became slick and warm."

"Arabella, you do look pale," said Elinor looking concerned. "I'm going to ask Chalston to call for the gig now. You should go home and rest."

"Thank you," Arabella said. "I do feel a little done in."

The trouble is that it is nothing to do with feeling tired. It is all to do with seeing the duke again. I really need to get a grip on my emotions again.

And there he was, walking towards her.

Arabella knew she needed to stand but wasn't sure her legs would hold her steady. I'm all of a tremble. This is quite ridiculous.

Somehow, she managed to stand, one hand holding the chair arm, and make something resembling a courtesy of greeting to the dowager duchess and the Duke of Montbury.

"Elinor, you should have joined us. There is a new milliner near the spa rooms. I had a lovely time while Robert saw Mr Drabble on some estate business," the dowager duchess told her.

"We've been quite busy here, Mama. Mrs Cribbage is making us new dresses for the ball," Elinor informed her.

"Excellent. I meant to ask if you'd ordered anything. Time is running out, you know," her mother warned.

"It's all in hand. Arabella and I have been devising more clues for the treasure hunt and planning the decor for the ball."

Arabella heard his voice. "I'd forgotten about the treasure hunt. Mama, will you join us for it? The plan is to make a day of it," the duke asked his mother.

"Of course. I believe we're having another of my picnics. It will be just us, as the house party is going to Harrogate to take the waters."

"You wanted to go over to the island with the boys," the duke said to Elinor and Arabella. "I've some free time tomorrow, if you'd like me to row you over?"

"Now that, dear brother, is an excellent offer, and I shall take you up on it immediately. Arabella and I are both feeling a little tired and would be glad of your strong arms rowing us across to the island."

"Then we have a plan. I've time tomorrow afternoon if that will suit?" added the duke.

"Perfect. We can take the boys and relieve Reverend Colbrooke for an afternoon, though we'll have to be careful they don't see us planning where to put the clues on the treasure hunt," replied Elinor.

"I'm going to ask you to escort Arabella to the carriage mews, Robert, where the gig should be waiting to take her home. Mama, come with me as I have lots to share about the design for the ball."

And now I'm alone with the duke, and my tongue so tangled, and I'm not sure I can find any words.

She became aware of him offering his arm and her somehow taking it.

"Let's walk to the stables by the garden. The honeysuckle is just coming into flower," she heard him say.

The scent of the honeysuckle, clambering over the ancient castle wall, filled her senses as the duke guided her through the flower garden. "Mama set this part of the garden up so it resembled one of those gardens where Medieval ladies would go and sit and sew. You can smell the roses and honeysuckle, or woodbine as it's called locally. It twines upwards and creates its own woody supports as it does so. The fragrance is delicious on a warm summer's day."

He stopped, moved away, picked a sprig of the blossom, and handed it to her. "It is a beautiful flower, scented and strong." He looked at her intently. "It rather reminds me of you."

She gasped. The last time she'd seen him, he'd been holding the Duchess of Wyndale in his arms.

"Your Grace …"

"I was hoping to speak with you today. There is a matter of business, and also something more personal that has been on my mind," the duke interrupted her.

His eyes found hers, and the spinning sensation returned, but now there was no chair to grasp to hold her steady. Please don't let me swoon, she thought. Not here, not now.

"It's er, rather delicate, but I think you saw me with Rosalind the other day?"

Her cheeks coloured, blushing crimson red. "Please, it's nothing to do with …" she started to say.

"Oh, it has everything to do with you, Arabella, which is why I need to explain. It wasn't what it must have looked like. I'm going to be honest and tell you what happened. You don't need to say anything. I'm just hoping that you will do me the honour of listening and then going away and thinking about what I've said."

Cheeks still a flaming shade of crimson, all Arabella could do was nod slightly.

"I cannot tell you everything because even though I despise the lady in question, I cannot humiliate her by telling you all she said that day. I can tell you that I came upon her by surprise," the duke explained.

He guided Arabella to a wooden seat under an arbor covered by the roses and honeysuckle in full flower. "I think it better if we sit while I tell you the story.

"She had been waiting for me and began a conversation where she talked about when we were betrothed. As you know, she is engaged to my brother Simon."

Arabella nodded again, eyes averted from his.

The duke continued, "To my surprise, she suggested we might resume our engagement. I'm assuming that would mean she would break off her engagement with Simon."

Arabella drew a sharp inward breath.

"That's better," he said with humour in his voice. "You held your breath so long then that I was worried you'd stopped breathing. There isn't much more I can share. When I turned down her offer, she became angry. I suspect Rosalind has always had her own way in matters of the heart. Before I knew what was happening, she stepped forward, and whether she stumbled or purposefully fell into my arms, I honestly don't know. I suspect the latter," explained the duke.

He took both her hands in his, and she let him hold them. "I looked up the hill and saw you running away. I've been worried ever since about what you might have seen. I know how it must have looked. I just hope you know enough of my character by now to know that I would not say what I said to you earlier that afternoon and then, a short time later, embrace a lady who is currently engaged to my brother. What's more on a public path where I could be seen by half the estate workers."

"But why would she do that when she is engaged to be married to your brother?" exclaimed Arabella.

"It seems I am a better prospect. I am the older brother. I've been thinking about this since it happened and saw you running up the pathway. My heart plummeted when I saw you, and I can't honestly remember what I did at that moment. Could I have pushed Rosalind away sooner?

"I know I'm the innocent party, but maybe I could have done something differently." He looked down as if searching for the words to explain. "I have to be courteous to Rosalind, as she is engaged to Simon. However, I have no desire to begin a liaison with her. The very thought of it makes me shudder."

I believe he is sincere, she thought.

"I cannot bear that Rosalind, through her scheming, ruins our friendship. I think you know that this has become more than a friendship for me. I won't say any more, but I wanted you to know that what you saw must have looked like a romantic liaison, and it truly wasn't."

He still held her hands in his, and she let them rest there. He was silent for a moment while they sat together.

"There is another matter I wanted to talk to you about," said the duke. "I went to Harrogate today to see Dawkins, my solicitor. He has enquiries underway about Christopher Farrington. He's had some preliminary paperwork back from London, and Farrington has been manipulating the facts. One of the investigators is travelling north to report in person and is due to arrive on the stagecoach from London.

"Dawkins will ride over to Montbury late tomorrow and spend the night here at the castle. My suggestion is that you and Sir Joseph join me to hear what has been discovered so far," the duke told her.

Arabella gasped and whispered her thanks. "I'll speak to Uncle Joseph and ask him if he can come. I believe he'll want to be there, and I certainly do," she answered.

"Now let's find that gig and get you home to Horton Hall," he said, helping her rise to her feet.