She leaned toward the window and tried to see the façade of his town house far down Half Moon Street, toward the park. If she pressed her nose to the glass, she could just see enough to determine its location. Were the windows lit more brightly than normal tonight? Possibly. Perhaps she was not the only one to eschew the pleasures of Town on a rainy night, or it was more likely Rothwell had his own private entertainment indoors. All she had was Farnsworth and his odd looks.
Dispirited by that thought, Arabella turned from the window and then shrieked. Farnsworth was standing immediately behind her, smiling down at her in that odd way he’d adopted today, another refilled glass in hand. She pressed her fingers to her chest, attempting to recover her calm and control her racing pulse. “Gracious, I did not hear you come in, Farnsworth.”
He did not move back. “Did you not plan to be so artfully displayed when I returned? You must do exactly that tomorrow when Parker calls.”
“Artfully?” She scowled at him for frightening her and babbling nonsense. “Really, Farnsworth, you must moderate your consumption of spirits. They make you imagine any number of ridiculous things.”
“Not so ridiculous.” Farnsworth placed the glass on the nearest table. “We are alike, you and I. We each hesitate to say what is on our minds.”
Arabella had had enough of his moods today. Farnsworth held nothing of his opinions in reserve. She’d learned so much while living beneath his roof to determine she had to do everything she could to avoid continuing the conversation. “I believe I should like to retire early tonight. Excuse me.”
Farnsworth’s hand rose and cupped her face. “I was thinking the same thing. You should be refreshed for when Parker extends his offer of marriage tomorrow.”
It took a moment to make sense of Farnsworth’s words, but when she did, she staggered back against the window. “You must be mistaken.”
“Not at all.” He held up a scrap of paper for her to see. “It is all arranged. Since Cecily has eloped, your days as a chaperone are done. You shall marry Parker by special license tomorrow and any embarrassment to the family will largely be erased by the connection.”
“I am not marrying Parker,” she insisted. Arabella had only wanted a lover, not a man to tell her what to do with her days. “Whatever possessed you to think you could arrange such a thing without consulting me?”
He grabbed her arm and jerked her hard against him, well beyond the bounds of proper behavior for any gentleman. “You will do what I say or you will get out. Have I not been patient while you mourned? Have I not allowed you certain freedoms while keeping a roof over your head and providing you with endless luxury? If you had any family, I’d have sent you back to them, but I thought you could be useful. Well, you will be now. With your help, Cecily managed to repel every proper gentleman save that Ford runt and ruined us in the process. It’s up to you to smooth the way forward.”
“What do you mean ruin us? What haven’t you told me?” Arabella struggled and his grip tightened. Such a situation she had never imagined she would find herself in. What woman did? She would not marry Parker. She would not marry anyone. Unfortunately, the more she fought against his hold, the tighter Farnsworth gripped her. “Farnsworth, release me at once or I will scream.”
The next moment, his open palm slammed against her cheek, sending her spinning across the room and into a side table. Small ornaments shattered as they hit the floor. Only a single, unlit silver candelabra remained on the surface and even it tipped on its side.
“You will do as I say, woman,” he growled, stalking toward her. “Don’t tell me you’re not in the mood for a man after all your come-hither looks you’ve sent the fellows about London this season. You ruined my daughter, planted wild notions in her head about love and personal freedom. I won’t suffer the expense of you under my roof a moment longer without the promise of a dividend in return. Luckily, Parker isn’t repelled by a more experienced woman and has settled my debts in full in order to have you. Be grateful it’s marriage he offers and not an affair. You’ll marry him or live on the street with the other tarts for all I care.”
She stared at him, shocked by the way he saw her actions. She’d created no scandal herself. She’d done not one thing to feel embarrassed about. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have done nothing to deserve being treated in this manner. I am not a horse to sell at Tattersall’s.”
“Oh, come now. I’m not a fool or blind.” His hand shot out and wrapped about her throat, hauling her upright to meet his eyes. His bloodshot gaze skimmed over her body once, a sneer forming on his mouth. He was far more intoxicated than she’d first suspected. His grip tightened as he pressed her against the table. “New dresses designed to arouse, the absence of my brother’s wedding ring upon your finger. You had but one plan in mind when you came up to Town. Seduction. Well, you got your wish. There is one gentleman among the many prepared to seize what’s on offer.”
Arabella clutched at the table behind her for support. “I came because you gave me no choice,” she croaked.
Farnsworth’s face came closer. “You always had a choice. Pretend all you like, but you’ll get your wish for a man between your legs. You’ll be married before the sun sets tomorrow and business with Parker will be complete.”
Arabella groped behind her. Her fingers closed on the lone candlestick. The cold, heavy silver reassured her somewhat. “You’re mad. I am not marrying him or anyone.”
He drew back, but his free hand rose as if to strike her again. “Then get out of my house.”
As his hand fell toward her face again, Arabella swung the candlestick, clubbing Farnsworth on the side of his head with all her might. It wasn’t enough to drop him to the floor, but he staggered back, clutching at his head and bellowing his rage. She took one instant to decide she shouldn’t stay another moment to try to reason with him. She flung the candlestick from her fingers and ran for the door. She passed the butler, ignoring his expression of horror, gained the entrance hall, and wrenched open the front door and stared out into the night.
“Arabella! You have no choice,” Farnsworth bellowed.
But she did have a choice. Despite the rain, and having no possessions save the gown she wore, she plunged out into the safety of darkness. She chose freedom.
Once on the street, she glanced left and right through the rain and knew she had little time to decide her direction. She hadn’t wounded Farnsworth greatly, and he seemed convinced she’d fall in with his plans. It was possible he might follow and force her to return. She chose left and the open space of the park ahead, moving off at a normal walking pace to avoid scrutiny. By the fourth house, the trickle of rain had grown to a downpour, slick cold water sliding beneath the neckline of her flimsy dinner gown and between her breasts.
A carriage clattered past her on the narrow street, flicking dirty water across her lower skirts. She swiped at it ineffectually and then gave up. She couldn’t keep going like this without a specific destination in mind, so she stopped in the servants’ stairwell of a house she knew to be vacant this season to think for a minute or two.
The park ahead would be dangerous at this time of night for a woman alone. Farnsworth might come upon her there and do even worse.
She looked around her quickly and shivered as rain slicked her skin. She had few friends in London that would accept her arrival and ask no questions about her disheveled, rain-soaked state. Anyone with a sense of honor would demand answers that she didn’t want to give.
Footsteps pounded past where she hid and she huddled against the stair wall, desperately trying to control her fear and not give herself away. When all was silent again, she risked a peek. There was no one in sight or carriages drawing close, but across the street stood Lord Rothwell’s house. The fanlight and lower street-front windows were brightly lit, casting the only welcoming glow to the evening that she could see. Rothwell might shelter her if he were at home, at least for a few hours until she could make up her mind where to go.