Chapter Two

Arabella leaned against the large window in the drawing room of her family's home, allowing the cold glass to ease the burning of her cheeks. She had not stopped blushing since she had run, quite literally, into the Duke of Rylingdale. His title rang a bell with her, but she could not quite place how she knew it. But right then, that was the last thing that mattered to her. She had humiliated both her family and herself in front of a duke. And her father, who had returned the embarrassment tenfold with his visible scolding, would not soon allow her to forget it.

She winced as she thought about the lecture that was sure to come later that day. For as harsh as Isaac Benson had been to Arabella in front of a guest, he would hold back no sharp words when he summoned her to his study that evening. She understood that bumping into the duke the way she did was very unladylike, which was against everything her etiquette studies had taught her. But she had not known that her father was expecting company.

And she had not even been running, as he had accused. She was walking quickly to go meet her younger sister in the gardens. Had that truly warranted the lashing she had taken, and the one she knew was coming?

With a groan, she turned to lean her back against the window just in time to see the drawing room door, which she had closed firmly behind her when she sought refuge there after the embarrassment, flew open. Arabelle gasped, darting futilely behind the purple satin curtain. There was a pause, then a light, delightful laugh.

"Sister, what are you doing behind the drapes?" Lydia asked, giggling.

Arabella let out a sigh of relief, pushing aside the curtains and reclaiming her seat.

"You scared me to death, Lydia, that is what," she said.

Lydia seemed to take great delight in that fact. She laughed again and clapped her hands together before taking up the rest of the daybed sitting beside her older sister.

"I have it on good authority that there appear to be some interesting developments that we can expect this upcoming season," she said.

Arabella took a deep breath, still trying to steady her racing heart after the fright her sister gave her.

"You are terribly concerned with the season for a young lady who is still two years away from her debut," she said.

Lydia put her hands on her hips and gave her sister a playfully smug pout.

"Well, if you do not wish to hear what I just heard, I will not tell you," she said.

Arabella giggled again and nodded.

"All right, Sister," she said. "I apologise. You may enlighten me on what has caused such a disturbance in your spirits."

Lydia beamed, scooting so close to her sister that she was nearly in Arbella's lap. Arabella snickered as her sister looked at her with conspiracy in her eyes.

"I overheard some of the servants talking," she said in a hushed voice. "It would seem that the Beast himself, the duke of Rylingdale was seen following Father into his study today."

Arabella felt her cheeks grow pale at the mention of the duke. Now, she knew where she had heard his name before that day. He was referred to as Beast and, while she had heard it had something to do with his business dealings and heartlessness, she did not know anything specific.

It was clear that her sister was enthusiastic, and she could hardly blame her. Their father dealing with a man of such repute was the most exciting thing that had happened in their home in months. But that was the last subject that Arabella wished to discuss right then, not after the spectacle which had taken place involving him. However, as Arabella opened her mouth to explain the humiliation she had endured, the viscountess entered the room. Her eyes found her youngest daughter, setting a firm gaze on the sixteen-year-old.

"Lydia," Josephine Benson said, her voice even quieter than Lydia's had been. "I should not need to remind you that it is very unladylike to gossip about your father's business partners. The Duke of Rylingdale is a crucial associate of your father's, which means he is crucial to our family's fortune. You would do well with that."

The scolding, despite the soft, feminine voice, almost reminded Arabella of the one her father had given her earlier, and she wanted to cower again. But she saw something in her mother's eyes that gave her pause. Their usually kind and inviting mother looked worried, almost frightened as she lectured them about their gossiping, which was something that, as far as Arabella could recall, had never occurred before. What had happened that caused such discontent and concern with the viscountess?

"I apologise, Mother," Lydia said, giving their mother a sheepish smile. "It is merely that I was quite overwhelmed with excitement, and—"

"That is enough, Lydia," the viscountess said with a sharper edge still. Arabella shivered at the ice in their mother's voice. What was happening that could get such a reaction out of such a typically kind woman?

Dread began to build within Arabella. Since before she was Lydia's age, she had been aware that some of her father's business deals were not what one would call completely straightforward. He sometimes made deals with gentlemen with more profit in mind than he told those considering going into partnerships with him, although Arabella did not know exactly why he would do such a thing. And more than once, he had taken up partnerships with gentlemen whose reputations were not as clear as others.

However, to become involved with someone as notorious as the man they called Beast was truly worrying. It made no sense, which rattled Arabella. Had her clumsy lack of decorum forced her father into a partnership that he would regret? What occupied the duke in their mansion that day?

"My apologies, Mother," Lydia said again.

The viscountess nodded her head, her expression softening.

"Very good," she said. "Now, tell me, my darlings. What do the two of you think about those new stays?"

Arabella blinked, trying to switch her focus with the sudden shift in conversation topics. It took her a moment to understand what her mother meant.

"They are quite lovely," she said, giving her mother a tentative smile. "The ones I recently purchased are rather comfortable."

The viscountess nodded, seeming pleased that she had successfully snuffed out the gossip.

"I can recall wearing corsets at your age," she said with a grimace. "All my corsets were so terribly uncomfortable. I had a dear friend who could not wear them without fainting. Poor dear missed so many social events due to her condition."

Lydia furrowed her brow.

"What is a corset, Mother?" she asked.

Arabella giggled at her sister's naivety.

"They are stays, only tighter and more suffocating," she said.

The viscountess also laughed, but Arabella noted that there was still an air of tension about her. She said nothing to her mother. But she knew it was related to the duke.

"Yes, darling, they were quite uncomfortable," she said. "But they were the fashion of my time. I dare say that I shall not miss them, now that we have stays."

Arabella nodded. She herself had only worn a couple, as stays became in style shortly after she entered her teenage years. But she could appreciate her mother's sentiment. They were restrictive and painful, and she could hardly believe that she would spend the rest of her days wearing them. She had been incredibly relieved when stays became available in the shops on Bond Street.

"Thank goodness we do not have to wear them now," Lydia said, looking horrified.

Arabella and their mother laughed.

"Yes," Arabella said. "It makes attending season events much more enjoyable."

The viscountess nodded, her eyes truly lighting for the first time since she entered the room.

"Speaking of which, what gatherings do you young ladies think you would care to attend this season?" she inquired.

Lydia gasped.

"May I start attending formal balls?" she asked.

Josephine Benson laughed heartily and shook her head.

"No, my darling," she said with the genuine merriment to which the sisters were accustomed and helped dispel the dread that Arabella had been feeling. "However, I know that there will be quite a few assemblies, particularly small dances, to be held this season which you could attend. And we can always host small dinner parties here for our family and closest friends, and make dancing the entertainment of the evening."

The disappointment on Lydia's face vanished at the promise of a dance.

"Oh, could we, Mother?" she asked. "I would love to go shopping for some new dresses for such occasions."

The viscountess nodded, giggling once more.

"That sounds delightful, sweetheart," she said.

As her mother and sister talked, Arabella thought again about the Duke. He had been a cold, callused man, not unlike her father. And yet, she would have sworn that she saw a flicker of something in his eyes as she struggled to get herself off the ground. Had he been concerned beneath his chastisement? Was there a desire to help her that he suppressed?

She shook her head, dismissing the thought. Her first impression of him had been correct, she was sure of it. While he was incredibly handsome, he was as hard and emotionless as the rumors told. She could not entertain any wild notions of the duke having any caring in his heart. And why was she still thinking of such a beastly man, anyway?

***

As the Benson family carriage pulled up in front of the Hamilton townhouse later that evening, Arabella was beside herself. She waited impatiently as her father helped her mother, younger sister and her out of the coach and escorted them to the gray-painted oak front door. The exterior of the townhouse, painted light blue with dark blue trim, was inviting in itself. However, Arabella knew that what awaited inside was even more so. They waited for the butler to answer their knock, then followed him into the dining room. George Hamilton, Josephine Benson's brother, was already seated at the table, joined by his wife, Violet, and his son, Lucas.

When the Hamilton's saw the arrival of their family, they all rose from their seats. Violet smiled warmly and embraced both her sister-in-law and Lydia. Lucas's face lit up and he rushed straight for Arabella.

"Dearest Cousin," he said, squeezing her tightly as his arms enveloped her. "How I have missed you."

Arabella reveled in her cousin's warm embrace. He was the opposite of her father in every way: kind, compassionate, understanding and incredibly protective of her. He loved both Arabella and Lydia. However, as he was closer to Arabella's age, at one and twenty, he had formed a closer bond with Arabella.

"And I have missed you, Cousin," she said.

Lucas escorted Lydia and Arabella to their seats, greeting Lydia as warmly as he had greeted Arabella and helping her into her chair. Then, he claimed his seat beside Arabella, smiling brightly at her.

"Tell me, Cousin," he said. "How have you been of late?"

Arabella smiled warmly at her cousin.

"I have been getting along," she said. "I do hope to attend some literary salons this Season."

Lydia chimed in, beaming at her sister.

"Are you not looking forward to attending parties, as I am?" she asked. "There is nothing more elegant than dressing in your finest attire and dancing the evening away."

Arabella giggled, shaking her head.

"The parties are fun in a way," she said. "But you know perfectly well that I prefer books and discussions regarding literature."

The viscount snorted, and Arabella blushed before he even began speaking.

"A young lady in her second season should be thinking of marriage," he said. His tone was marginally kinder than it was in his own home. However, the words cut just as deeply, as their meaning was just as clear. She nodded, putting her head down.

"Yes, of course, Father," she said meekly.

The silence that fell on the table was broken by the viscountess.

"We were just discussing Season parties we would like to attend today," she said brightly.

Arabella's uncle exchanged glances with his wife, who smiled warmly at both her nieces.

"Lydia, do you have any shopping plans this week?" she asked.

Lydia launched into her excited chatter about the assemblies their mother had mentioned and the dresses she hoped to buy. George Hamilton engaged his brother-in-law in conversation about business. And Lucas nudged Arabella, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Do not let him upset you, not here," he said. "You are safe to discuss whatever you wish with me. I am always happy to hear what you have to say, sweet Cousin."

Arabella nodded, giving her cousin a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Lucas," she said.

The rest of the dinner went flawlessly, and Arabella felt comfortable speaking with Lucas. As ever, he was witty and charming, and he listened to her every word with great interest. He even expressed sympathy when she whispered to him of her incident with the Duke of Rylingdale. She never felt more herself or at home than when she was with her cousin. It was a great relief from the pressure and scolding and expectations that threatened to bury her at home.

As the final course of the meal was served, Lucas leaned in close to Arabella, his expression urgent and filled with concern.

"Please, promise me that no matter what happens, you will not allow yourself to end up in a marriage you do not want," he said, glancing inconspicuously at his uncle.

Arabella sighed.

"There is nothing more that I want," she said. "But I fear that Father might have different ideas about my future."

Lucas shook his head.

"You are a grown woman now," he declared. "It would be far more prudent for you to remain an unwed lady than to bind yourself to a gentleman incapable of loving you. I hold you in the highest esteem, my dear cousin. Nothing is of greater import to me than your happiness. And surely, that ought to be your utmost priority as well."

Arabella nodded, giving her cousin another smile.

"It is," she said. "And I promise that I shall defend my freedom with all my might."

Lucas smiled at her, though his eyes still held concern.

"Good," he said, kissing her on the cheek.

That night, as she retired to her bedchambers, she lay in her bed, thinking about what her cousin had said. Of course, she wished for the freedom to choose a marriage for love. However, as much as he loved her, Lucas did not understand that as the eldest daughter of a nobleman, she had a duty to marry well to secure her family's future.

She could try to be as brave as she pleased if her father tried to force her to marry. But she also understood that she would have no choice, should things come to that point. And her mother, as kind and understanding as she was, was too often overshadowed by her own husband. She would be of no help to Arabella if the viscount chose to force her into a marriage.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes. Sleep likely would not come for a few hours yet. But she knew she needed to settle her mind if she were to prepare for the season ahead. Whatever happened, she knew that there would be some challenges for her. She could not be certain what those challenges might be. But she intended to greet them with confidence and strength.

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