Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

" O h look at that!" Arabella and her mother were on their way out of the modiste, but Arabella, spying a beautiful dress in the window, could not help but stop.

"We have already made our purchases," Emily reminded her gently.

It was true. Jasper, who had been waiting outside by the carriage, came in briefly to pay, and was now on his way back to the carriage, the ladies following close behind.

"Besides, this must be worth a fortune," Emily murmured, reaching out to feel the sleeve of the dress in question.

Arabella nodded faintly. Everything her mother was saying was logical and yet she could not seem to take her eyes off of the gown. It truly was the most beautiful thing she thought she had ever seen.

The blue of the dress was nearly the color of her eyes, if not a hair darker. The draping of the skirts was done in such an elegant way that Arabella could hardly believe that people had mad such a thing. Surely the fae folk had to be responsible for the delicate, tiny stitching.

"Peggy would look beautiful in this," Arabella added thoughtfully.

At this, Emily turned to regard her daughter carefully.

Arabella frowned. "Have I said something wrong?"

Emily shook her head. "No. It is just – I fear that your sister continues to overshadow you in your own mind," she said gently. Turning back to the beautiful dress, she gestured at it. "This gown would suit you just as well as Peggy."

Taken aback by her mother's words – words that hit far deeper than Arabella could have anticipated – Arabella found her gaze travelling up and down the dress with an increased fervor.

It was true. All throughout their childhood, Peggy had been the beautiful one. And Arabella had not minded. She had been happy, for the most part, to pale in comparison to her lovely sister.

But in a dress like this…Arabella could not help wondering how beautiful she might feel in a gown as special as this.

"I fear this dress is made to be admired from a distance," Emily sighed, taking her daughter's hand comfortingly.

Her mother was right. Despite the allure of the gown, Arabella would never have the courage to ask the duke to purchase it for her. Nor could she reasonably make the request – it must have been the most expensive item in the shop.

So, forcing herself toward the door, she and her mother joined Jasper in the carriage. But when they arrived, Jasper excused himself briefly. He stalked back into the shop and, a few minutes later, emerged once again. As he retook his seat, he murmured something about having forgotten one of his gloves inside. Though Arabella couldn't remember whether she had seen him without a glove just a few moments ago, she quickly pushed the thought from her mind. Her mother had not yet told her of how Thomas had been faring, and she was eager to hear more of her family.

The ride back to Clement estate was uneventful and, before long, Arabella was climbing out of the carriage to bid her mother goodbye. Jasper stayed in the carriage.

As Arabella walked her mother up to the steps of the manor, Emily pulled her to a gentle stop. "Are you happy, my dear?" her mother asked anxiously, her voice low. "We have only had very general correspondence from you. But you have not provided us with many details. Is your husband treating you well? Are you adjusting to your new life?"

The concern on her mother's face made Arabella's tongue feel like heavy stone in her mouth. How could she tell her the truth when she was looking at her with such expectation? Such hope?

Plucking up her courage, Arabella smiled and placed a hand on her mother's arm. "I am settling in well. It is strange, but the duke is not unkind."

"He seems a man of few words," her mother remarked, her voice lowering almost to a whisper, lest they be overheard.

Arabella hesitated again. Truer words had never been spoken. And yet, despite his brevity of speech, Jasper had not spoken against her. Except for that day in the stables. And that had been…confusing to say the least.

"I hope he and I may speak more freely with one another in time."

"That is the spirit, my girl," Emily smiled. She pulled Arabella into an embrace and then reminded her that her husband was waiting in the carriage.

Saddened to leave her mother, Arabella waited a moment more to ensure that her mother was safely inside, before she returned to Jasper.

When the carriage began to move, Jasper looked at her. "You are satisfied with what you have found?" he asked.

Arabella nodded eagerly. "Indeed. Thank you, Your Grace. It was very generous of you to purchase so many dresses."

"It was necessary."

Arabella pressed her lips together. Despite what she had told her mother, she did not hold out much hope that things might become more relaxed between herself and the duke. After all, had he not ordered her to keep her distance from him, even within their own home? If Emily knew of that, she would be doubly worried for Arabella. And there was no use in worrying Emily about a situation that was never going to change.

"Jasper."

Blinking, Arabella opened her mouth and then closed it. Had he said something? She had been deep in thought. "I, I beg your pardon?"

Jasper shifted to glance out the window. "You ought to call me Jasper. We are husband and wife, after all. It would not do for us to speak so formally of one another."

"Are we not to maintain distance from one another?" Arabella countered. She could not deny that a strange flurry of excitement had stirred at the thought of calling this man by his most personal name. However, she was growing tired of his mixed messages. "It seems to me that to call you Jasper would be quite intimate."

When Jasper met her eye, her heart skipped a beat. She could not tell what he was thinking. He held her gaze, searching her eyes for something. A small movement made Arabella glance down. At his side, Jasper had lifted his gloved hand slightly, the fingers uncurling. Then, in the next moment he dropped his hand and sighed.

"You are right. Please continue to refer to me as His Grace."

There was no reason why she should be disappointed that the duke had changed his mind. And yet, somehow, she was. Had she wanted him to fight back? To admit that he had been wrong about keeping his distance?

Arabella did not know. All she knew was that, when they finally returned to the duke's estate, she was ready to be out of his company. She needed time to think. To clear her head.

As soon as they were inside, Arabella asked her maid to help her carry her new purchases up to her rooms. Then, murmuring another ‘thank you' to Jasper, Arabella hid herself away upstairs until supper.

"Something has arrived for you, Your Grace." Mr. Rogers was in the doorway of the library. Arabella, who had been seated in a rather unladylike position, hunched over her novel which had gripped her in a passionate, thrilling scene, started to her feet.

Mr. Rogers gave her a small smile. "Is the book worth the read, Your Grace?"

Arabella chuckled. "It is indeed. I must be careful not to read it in public or I shall make a complete fool of myself."

"I doubt that you could," the older man reassured her kindly. "I have left the package in your rooms."

"Package?"

"Yes, Ma'am. It was addressed to you. I believe there is a card attached."

"Oh. Thank you."

The butler nodded and took his leave as Arabella tried to think what could be waiting for her upstairs. But she had no idea.

There is only one way to find out , she told herself. Setting aside her book for later, Arabella made her way up to her rooms. Sure enough, waiting on her desk, was a large box. It was tied with lovely ribbons and a small card had been tucked under one of the wrappings, its corner just sticking out.

Cautiously, Arabella took it up and began to read. "I believe you forgot this," the note said. "Please add it to your collection. Sincerely, Jasper."

Still just as baffled as before, Arabella set down the card and slowly unwrapped the ribbons. Then, pulling the top off of the box, Arabella let out an audible gasp.

It couldn't be!

Squealing in an utterly unladylike fashion, Arabella reached into the box and pulled out the beautiful blue dress from the modiste. "How? When?" she murmured, trying to understand how this had come to pass.

Then, grinning even wider, she remembered how Jasper had left the ladies in the carriage to return to the shop at the end of their outing. Somehow, he had seen her admiring the dress and had gone back inside to purchase it for her.

Grateful, and wholly confused as to why the duke would make such an effort – or spare such expense – on her behalf, Arabella brought the dress to the mirror. Holding it up before her, she noted that it was the exact same shade as her eyes.

Arabella could only giggle as she looked at her reflection. She had never been one for fancy clothes. She had never been afforded that luxury. But here, looking at the dress in her mirror, Arabella felt like a young girl, marveling over the gown for her first ball.

It was hers! That was almost incomprehensible.

Filled with another sudden flood of gratitude, Arabella laid the dress out over her bed and quickly swept from the room. She hurried down the stairs and looked around. She tried the drawing room first, but to no avail. Then the dining room. Then, finally, the study.

Here, she came upon Jasper. Just the man she was looking for. As she stepped into the room, Jasper glanced up at her in surprise. He stood, pushing out his chair behind him. But before he could say anything, Arabella was crossing to him.

She threw her arms around him joyfully. "Thank you," she breathed.

Arabella was in his study. And, before he knew it, her arms were around him.

His body did not seize up as it usually would have to be touched so. But the instant Arabella was on him, Jasper was back in that moment. Back to that fateful day.

He was no longer in his study. He was in the dining room all those years ago. It was not Arabella in his arms, but his mother. And his mother was…

"Do you ignore my instructions or are you simply unwilling to listen?" he snapped, pushing her off of him. It was not a rough movement, but Arabella looked at him as if he had slapped her, not extricated himself from her embrace.

"How many times must I tell you to keep your distance?" he pressed, his voice louder than it probably needed to be. But he was still seeing his mother's face in his mind's eye, that horrible, fearful expression on her face.

This was why they needed to keep their distance. This was why. He couldn't. Not again.

"I – I'm sorry –"

"If you regret your actions then you will stop behaving so," he retorted.

"I was excited," she murmured, tears welling in her eyes. "I was not thinking. I received your gift. I simply wanted to express my gratitude."

"By doing the one thing I have strictly forbidden you from doing?"

"But –"

Jasper's temper flared again. He would not be argued with. "I have work to do. Please excuse yourself."

As Arabella looked at him a moment longer, Jasper thought his heart might break. The pain in her eyes was something he had never seen before. Nor had he been affected by anything more. She was on the verge of tears. And he had done that to her.

"Yes, Your Grace." Arabella turned away and stepped out of the study. As she did, she pulled the door shut behind her.

Once more, Jasper was alone.

He had done the right thing. Hadn't he? She had broached the bounds of their agreement. Not for the first time. He had every right to be upset with her.

But why, then did he feel so guilty?

The look on her face when he had pushed her away had driven a knife straight through his heart. No one had ever looked at him with such hurt before. It had brought up the strangest feelings within him.

Logic had gone completely out the window. In that moment, Jasper had wanted nothing more than to apologize and pull her back to him. He had wanted to embrace her, to comfort her.

Jasper passed a hand over his face, letting out a low, aggravated groan. This was the problem with letting her get too close. She had begun to work upon him with her positivity and empathy. She was beginning to break down the walls that he had worked so hard to build up.

This was something he could not allow. She had been so close to learning about his condition. Too close. And that, too, was unacceptable.

Not even Reginald knew about Jasper's condition. He suspected something, perhaps. Maybe he could guess at what lay beneath Reginald's gloved hands and cool, aloof distances. But he did not know the truth of the matter. No one could know.

That sort of knowledge could be easily used against the duke. He would become a laughing matter.

Besides, it was no one's business. Nor had Jasper ever trusted someone enough that he could willingly share this most secret part of himself.

Not even Arabella.

No, Jasper had done the right thing. And, in time, Arabella would come to accept their arrangement. She would not ask for more.

Arabella sat at the mirror, watching as her maid finished her hair for the day. She vaguely wondered how her family was getting on. Her old maid was still employed by the household, she had learned from her mother. That was good. She was a loyal and kind young woman.

Though, if Arabella was being honest, her maid here was even better at arranging hair than her old maid had been.

When she was finished, Arabella thanked her. Soon, it would be time to go down to breakfast. And, in keeping with the last several days, Arabella was dreading it.

As the door closed after her maid, Arabella let out a heavy sigh. She had been avoiding Jasper ever since the incident in the study. This was partly because she was still mortified over how he had reacted to her embrace. But, primarily, it was because she was furious with him for raising his tone with her. She was offended that he had refused her gratitude so thoroughly, blaming her instead for having crossed a line.

Perhaps she had. But it was a silly line. This man made no sense. And she was tired of trying to figure him out.

So, she had been avoiding him.

It had been fairly simple, apart from mealtimes. This, she grimly realized, was probably what he wanted. That she disappear from his sight until absolutely necessary.

But it had made Arabella feel a little better that at mealtimes, when Jasper had tried to strike up conversation, Arabella had given him hardly more than one or two words in answer. This seemed to aggravate him, which then secretly pleased her.

She was being petty, she knew, but she could not help it. She could still see the look on his face as he had pushed her away. He looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

Arabella looked at herself in the mirror, raising a hand to her cheek. Was she truly that unacceptable that just a touch from her made him react like that?

She shook her head. She was not going to start overthinking the incident again. It seemed to have been the only thing on her mind the last three days. No, she would get through breakfast this morning and, hopefully, be out in time for a ride before long.

Descending the stairs, Arabella briefly wondered if she would receive a letter from Catherine today. She still had not replied to Arabella's last correspondence, and Arabella was starting to get worried.

She continued fretting after her friend as she made her way into the dining room. Jasper, as usual, waited there for her.

At her approach, he set down his cup of tea. His gaze flicked over her in that steady, knowing way that made her skin grow hot and tingly. Arabella still could not understand why the man had such a strange effect on her.

He continued to watch her as she took her seat. When he spoke, his tone gave nothing away. "Ah. Good morning, Duchess."

Arabella held her head high, meeting his curt greeting with a cold one of her own. "Good morning Your Grace."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you." She made no move to ask the same of him. Jasper seemed to wait a moment for her to ask after his evening but, when she did not, he informed a footman that they were ready for their meal.

"Another sunny day," Jasper remarked casually. "I do not think we have had such a sunny spring for years."

Arabella watched him for a moment, trying to understand what was happening. Was he trying to make conversation? If so, she was not in the mood to exchange civilities. Watching as their food was brought in, Arabella simply nodded.

Jasper glanced over at her, searching her face for a moment. His gaze was sharp, scrutinizing. But his words did not match its severity. "Has the riding been to your liking?" he asked nonchalantly a moment later. "The horses are some of the finest in town, I have been assured. Do you find them suitable?"

"Yes, thank you."

When she offered no more, she expected Jasper to sigh or grimace. Instead, a small, almost imperceptible half-smile twisted the corner of his lip. Then, flicking his napkin out as he lay it across his lap, the smile was gone. "I shall cease tormenting you with my endless questions. It is evident that you are in no mood for them. Nor have you been," he added almost under his breath, "for the last several days."

Arabella hesitated. She almost believed she could hear a note of genuine hurt in his voice. But that could not be true. Still, she did not mean to aggravate him to the point of injury. But was it not his fault that they were in this situation in the first place? Why should she not be curt with him when he had first offended her?

They ate in silence for a long while. The room felt enormous and hollow as only the sound of silverware echoed through it. Arabella thought back to their wedding feast, when it had been filled with laughter and conversation. She would like to see it filled again. Not empty and dismal as it was now.

After a long while, Jasper sighed and set down his fork. When he fixed his gaze on her once more, there seemed to be several emotions warring within those dark green eyes. "You must forgive me, but I have one last tiresome question for you," he said, his tone teetering between grim bemusement and cold curiosity. It had another unpredictable effect on Arabella. She felt as if he were seeing through her, straight into her mind, and reading each of her thoughts. She shivered at such an intimate sensation.

"I am travelling into town this afternoon," he continued, sitting back in his chair. "If you are in need of an excursion, you are welcome to join me. Your advice on a matter would be most useful," he added, with a small, self-deprecating huff. "I know very little when it comes to matters of hosting."

Though Arabella did not move, her ears perked up at that. His words and behavior were still contradictory. She had no idea how he felt about her behavior toward him. And, as such, she could not help but feel a little irate. She was the one that was supposed to be annoying him. She was the one who was being curt and cold. But he was not reacting how he was supposed to.

Still, she said nothing.

Jasper continued. "I could explain the event I have in mind to you on the way into town," he offered. "I think, perhaps, you might be amiable to the prospect of hosting a ball here."

As his gaze flicked to her, searching once more, Arabella glimpsed his strategy. Pushing away her excitement, Arabella reminded herself that she was still angry with him and that this was clearly a ploy to get her to cast off her sulking.

"Is it my duty to go with you to town?" she boldly queried, raising her gaze to his.

When Jasper's eyes narrowed at the question, a flicker of guilt trickled through Arabella. "No, of course not," he replied coldly. "I was simply making an offer."

Arabella did not understand what was happening to her. He was not going to make her feel guilty for treating him as he deserved to be treated!

Standing, Arabella laid her napkin alongside her now empty plate. "Then I must refuse your offer, Your Grace. I have other plans."

She waited a moment for him to protest, but Jasper simply nodded and returned to his food. But not before she saw the briefest look of genuine disappointment pass over his face.

Before Arabella could question her decision further, she strode from the room. Without hesitating, she made her way out of the front door and across the greenery, heading straight for the stables.

As she walked, her anger was rekindled. "What right has he?" she snapped, walking faster now. "He cannot be upset with me that I am keeping my distance now, as he has asked! Is he trying to trick me into making another mistake?"

Arabella huffed, kicking at a loose rock nearby. "If he thinks I will risk being spoken to with such vehemence – as if I were a child! – then he will be sorely disappointed."

That man was utterly infuriating. That was what she told herself over and over again as she approached the stables and prepared to lose herself in a good, long ride.

But, as she climbed up into the saddle, she could not help but remember the touch of hope in Jasper's voice as he had mentioned the trip into town. He had truly wished for her company. But why?

What did the duke want from her?