Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

" I 'm afraid there is nothing for me to tell," Jasper informed Arabella with a smile. "Your brother came seeking advice. I gave him the best that I could and I daresay he seems satisfied."

Arabella put her hands on her hips, still regarding her husband with a mixture of amusement and suspicion. He looked like the cat that had caught the canary. And, frustratingly, it made him all the more attractive.

"He came seeking your advice?" she asked him, trying not to sound incredulous. She and her brother had always been close. It was not an insult to her husband for her to question why that Thomas had come seeking Jasper's advice, only a concern that Thomas felt he could not speak to Arabella about the situation.

Her fears, however, were quickly dismissed.

Jasper shook his head. "He came seeking yours," he informed her. "But, when he found you gone, I did my best to help."

Her curiosity growing, Arabella took a step closer to her husband. "You offered to help my brother?" she asked, her voice softer now. A warm, syrupy gratitude trickled down her back.

Reaching out, Jasper placed a hand on either of her arms. He smiled down at her. "We are family after all. Why should I not?"

Arabella could have kissed him right then and there. Indeed, she would have, had another thought suddenly sprung to mind. "Wait a moment. If you two were speaking about business, as my brother said, why were you out here?"

Chuckling, Jasper pulled Arabella closer. He reached out to brush a strand of hair back from her forehead. "I thought your brother might like to see the horses. I figured it would give him a leg up on the competition," he added with a grin.

Playfully batting at him, Arabella laughed. "There is nothing you can to do help him beat me," she assured him.

"Ah, you mustn't be overconfident, my dear," Jasper replied. "Underestimate anyone and they are sure to defeat you."

"But you do not know how skilled of a rider I am!" Arabella protested. "How do you know how confident I should or should not be?"

Jasper opened his mouth, but Arabella cut him off with a sly grin. "Indeed, I think it is time that you and I rode together," she continued. "So that I can acquaint you with what it is like to lose a race. I doubt you will be so confident of my brother's abilities then."

Chuckling, Jasper shook his head. His laughter was a terribly addictive sound. He had begun to laugh more and more around her of late, and Arabella could not have been more grateful. Indeed, when he laughed, it sounded as if he had been holding it back for some time. Years perhaps. And now, finally, he could share his mirth with Arabella.

"I should be honored to take a ride with you. But a race will not be necessary. I know which horse to back when the time comes," he grinned, winking down at his wife.

This made Arabella laugh again. Then, looping her arm through his, they started the walk toward the stables.

"You know, I was in a foul mood when I arrived just a moment ago," Arabella mused. "But somehow you seem to have lifted my spirits."

"Well, that is one of the gifts of being married to such a gentlemanly, refined man like your husband," Jasper replied, smiling somewhat smugly to himself.

Arabella scoffed. "I beg your pardon?"

"It was something you mother said of me, apparently." Jasper lifted his chin in mock pride. "I think I quite like the sound of that."

Laughing, Arabella shook her head. "Now who is being overconfident?"

Jasper laughed then too, moving to wrap an arm around her waist as they stepped into the stables.

It did not take them long to saddle the horses and, soon, they were starting their ride around the estate. It was a fine day. Perhaps not as sunny as the last few days, but the air was warm, and a slight breeze kept Arabella at a suitable temperature.

As they rode, the couple chatted happily about the estate with Jasper informing Arabella all about how the land had been managed throughout several generations of his family. It was clear to her that her husband took great pride in his history. Something, she hoped, would prompt him to look toward the future. She hoped it would inspire him to raise the next generation of dukes now that they were assured his condition did not prevent him from being intimate with Arabella.

Her face grew hot at that thought. Then, eager to return to their earlier playful banter, Arabella brought her horse level with Jasper's. "I think," she called out, "that you are simply frightened."

Jasper glanced back at her in surprise. "Frightened? Of what?"

Arabella grinned. "Of losing!" she shouted. Then, before he could say another word, Arabella sent a heel into her horse's flank and the animal took off.

From somewhere behind her, Arabella heard Jasper's laugh. "Oh no you don't!" he called out. His horse gave a whinny as he spurred it into greater speed.

Giddy, Arabella leaned low over her horse, pressing tight up against the animal as it raced across the ground. There was no better feeling in all the world. And yet, somehow, it was even more enjoyable now, with Jasper at her side.

That should have been it. Arabella should have been allowed to continue her ride, laughing and racing along beside her husband. She should have then gone happily into the manor with him and, quite possibly, into his bed.

But such things were not to be. For, as Arabella shifted, rising a little in her saddle to gaze out ahead, something in the bushes to her right moved.

A small animal – a fox perhaps, or a badger – raced from the hedge, scuttling out in front of Arabella's horse. The animal cried out, spooked. Then, rearing back on its hind legs, the horse lurched back.

Arabella had very little understanding of what happened. It all happened so quickly. All she knew was that a moment later, she was flying through the air. Then, when she hit the ground, everything went dark.

"Arabella!"

Jasper was off his horse and running toward his wife almost before the realization of what had just happened set in. He saw her hit the ground and something within him simply lurched forward, leaving all thought and understanding behind.

But, when he reached her side, it was the memories that set in. As Jasper took Arabella into his arms, it was suddenly his mother lying there. When Jasper brushed the hair away from his wife's face and Arabella stirred, it was his mother's dark green eyes that stared up at him.

"Arabella," he gasped, struggling to hold onto reality. "Arabella, speak to me."

Groaning, his wife's eyes fluttered opened and closed as she fought to stay conscious.

"Arabella!" he tried again, but panic all but closed up his throat. Gathering her closer, Jasper glanced around. He needed to get help. He needed to get her to safety.

"I – it hurts," Arabella whimpered.

When he glanced down at her, he saw Arabella gesturing to her side. Instantly, Jasper had a hand on her waist, checking for any sign of blood or protrusion.

"Who am I?" he asked her as he checked. "What is my name?"

Arabella frowned. "Jasper. I –" she gasped in pain again. "You are Jasper."

Her mind was working. She was conscious. But none of this eased Jasper's worries. As Arabella coughed, convulsing slightly in his arms, Jasper's body went cold. This…he knew this.

"Rogers!" he cried out. "Rogers! Wilkins!"

As Arabella groaned again, Jasper knew he could not afford to wait for help. Standing, Jasper cradled his wife in his arms and started back toward the manor.

The spooked horse was long gone. His own steed had wandered off. But it did not matter. Nothing but getting his wife to safety mattered.

Jasper continued to call out as he neared the manor and, finally, one of the footmen appeared. "Send for a physician," he instructed him. "Immediately."

The young man took one look at Arabella and nodded, racing back inside. Then, as Mr. Rogers and several others emerged, they tried to take Arabella from the duke.

But Jasper would not allow it. He did not release Arabella even as he carried her up the stairs and into his room. When he laid her on the bed, he instructed servants to fetch whatever might be needed to tend to Arabella while they waited for the physician.

By now, Arabella was able to say a little more. She was focusing on the men and women going in and out of the room. As Jasper adjusted the pillows behind her, helping her sit up in the bed, she thanked him.

When she reached out to catch his hand, however, Jasper flinched. Instantly, he pulled away, staring at his hands in horror.

"Jasper?"

He could hear the confusion in her voice, but he could not look up at her. He could say nothing. Do nothing.

"Jasper, I am all right," Arabella pressed. He could hear the fear in her voice now. He was scaring her. "I do not think anything is broken."

"Perhaps, then," added a nearby maid, "if nothing is dangerously amiss, we could move the Duchess –"

"No," Jasper snapped. "We do nothing until the physician arrives." He glanced around. "Where is he? When was he sent for?"

"I am all right, Jasper. I am not in danger." Arabella moved to touch her husband again, but he stepped away.

He caught only a brief glimpse of her hurt and confused face before he found himself staring once more at his hands.

Those hands. The source of so much pain. How much more was to come?

Something was terribly wrong. Not with Arabella, but with Jasper. As the physician tended to her, Arabella could do nothing but watch her husband as he stood nearby, his face a mask of agony.

The kind, elderly physician declared that, apart from a few bumps and bruises, that the duchess would be perfectly fine. But Jasper continued to look at her as if she were staring up at him from her deathbed.

Arabella tried to catch her husband as he approached the physician but, before she could do anything, Jasper was leading the man out of the room, and two of the maids were at her side, tending to the small cut she had acquired to her left arm.

Forced to stay still and allow the maids to care for her, Arabella watched the door for Jasper's return. Then, after several minutes, the duke strode back inside.

"You are to rest," he told her, his eyes flashing about the room, landing on everything but her. "The physician says that rest is the most important thing for you right now. Sleep now, if you can. I will go and ensure that there is food waiting for you when you awake."

Arabella glanced around. Only now was she realizing that she was not in her room. "But Jasper –"

Her protests were ignored as her husband turned back to the door and strode out into the hall. Arabella watched him go, helpless and frightened. She could not stop seeing the look in his eyes as she had reached out to touch him. Or the way he had stared down at his hands like a man haunted by some treacherous phantom.

His reaction made no sense. Jasper was not behaving as if his wife had had a painful but relatively harmless accident. No, he was acting…

Arabella did not know what he was behaving like. But she knew that something was wrong.

She did her best to wait for Jasper's return, but soon her eyelids were drooping. Once the fear and anxiety of the accident had worn off, a deep-set exhaustion took over, begging Arabella to do as the physician recommended and sleep.

So, despite her desire to speak with Jasper, Arabella was forced to give way to sleep. And she slept deeply. It was not until morning's early light was cast through the nearby window that Arabella awoke.

For a moment, she thought she was in her own bed. But then, glancing around the unfamiliar room with bleary eyes, the events of the previous day settled back into her mind.

"Jasper?" she called out, her voice a soft croak. "Jasper?"

"Is everything all right, Ma'am?" Arabella's maid was at the door in an instant. "Are you unwell?"

Pushing herself up in the bed, Arabella shook her head. "I – I think I am well. But –" she glanced around. "Where am I?"

"In the duke's room, Ma'am. He brought you in here after you had your accident."

Jasper's room. Arabella glanced at the other side of the bed. It was undisturbed, seemingly untouched. "But if I was here, where did the duke sleep last night?"

The maid frowned. "I couldn't say, Ma'am."

"Will you fetch him for me?"

As the young woman hurried from the room, Arabella tried not to panic. She told herself that she was still waking up, that her body was still settling after that jarring fall to the ground, that she was still only remembering Jasper's panic for her after the accident.

But, try as she might, Arabella could not shake the sensation that something was amiss.

Finally, when Arabella was about to send for someone else, fearing that the maid had forgotten or been waylaid, her maid finally returned.

But the young woman looked even less confident than when she had left. "The duke – I am not sure where he is at the moment," she confessed hesitantly.

Arabella frowned. "Have you asked the others where he might be?"

She nodded. "No one has seen him."

"Since when?"

The maid began to wring her hands. "I couldn't say, Ma'am. No one has seen him since last night."

Last night. Arabella did not understand what she was hearing. "Perhaps he has gone to see the physician," she murmured, the thoughts spilling forth in a panic. "Perhaps there is some tonic which I am meant to take. Or maybe he has gone to fetch my family. So that they might be assured I am well."

She glanced up hopefully at the maid, but the young woman could offer no relief. She did not know where the duke had gone. His wife had been thrown from her horse and now he was nowhere to be seen.

Arabella felt sick. "Please send someone out to fetch him," she instructed her maid. "I am sure he will be back shortly. But I should like to know."

"Of course, Ma'am."

The maid took her leave, and Arabella was left alone with her thoughts.

She told herself that everything would be all right. She told herself that things had changed between her husband and herself. They could speak freely with one another now. They understood one another.

When she had tried to reach out for him yesterday, he had merely pulled back in shock. An old force of habit. That was all.

At least, that was what Arabella kept telling herself.