He held out one hand, palm facing upward, hoping to reassure both her and himself that she had suffered no lasting harm. Seeing her flinch every time aid was offered was tearing his heart in two. “I don’t need to know the particulars if you do not feel strong enough to speak of it. I merely wish to assist you in whatever way I can.”
Her hand slipped from the blanket and she laid it over his. Her flesh was still chilled and she trembled. He closed his hands about hers and chafed her skin, hoping to warm her. Her face fell so low he could not see her expression.
“Farnsworth insisted I marry again.”
“What?” Merrick drew back in shock. “The devil he did.”
Arabella disappeared into the blanket as she hugged herself. “You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you,” he whispered urgently. “But the mind does not want to imagine you placed in such a situation. You have a choice about who you marry. He should not force you.”
Her hand rose to her neck and she hunched a little more into herself. “That is what I said. He was determined to give me little choice in the matter. He’s far stronger than I am and insisted that I accept Lord Parker’s proposal when he calls tomorrow.”
“Parker?”
“So he claimed.”
The last was said barely at a whisper. Merrick dropped to his knees, yet hesitated to come any closer. No man should have the right to abuse a woman just because she disagreed with him. It went against everything he believed in.
Her breath grew rushed. “He hit me when I refused to do as he demanded, then wrapped his hand about my throat and would have killed me for going against his wishes. I’ve never seen someone so enraged. He was deep in his cups, but I didn’t see the danger until too late. I either had to accept or he threatened to throw me out. When I gained enough freedom to escape, I left the house. I don’t want to marry anyone. I couldn’t think where to go and I was alone on the street with only the dark and the rain to hide me and the park ahead. I am so sorry to involve you in my problems. I’ll rest here a bit longer and then be on my way.”
Dear God. What might have happened if he’d not changed his plans and remained at home tonight? “There’s no need to rush back out. There is no need to go anywhere just yet. I would never turn you out into the night to fend for yourself. I would not do that to anyone.”
Against his better judgment, he placed a hand on her shoulder. She started instantly but soon stopped trembling when he merely held her shoulder through the blanket. As he continued to hold her thus, Arabella slowly toppled toward him until her damp head rested against his chest, a broken sob tearing from her throat.
Gingerly, Rothwell embraced her. He stroked her back, noting that while she shook in the grips of her misery, she did not resist or pull away from the scant comfort he could offer. At least he was able to do some good. When her sobbing began in earnest, he didn’t think she noticed much of anything he did at all, and he simply held her tightly against his chest until she stiffened and moved away again.
Merrick sat back on his heels and gave her space enough to pull herself together without feeling rushed to do so. She glanced at him timidly, fingers clenching and unclenching on the edge of the wool blanket wrapped around her. Merrick moved farther away, regaining a place on the footstool and simply watched her.
“I don’t know what to do,” she told him softly, wiping at tears that continued to slip down her cheeks. “I wish I had never come to London.”
When she sobbed again, Merrick moved toward her. He had never been particularly comfortable around crying women, but he could not watch her suffer like this at a distance. Arabella came to his arms easily, clinging to him in a way he had once dreamed of but discarded as merely an impossible fantasy.
She turned her face into his cravat, her breath warming him through the thin material. “I cannot think of what to do. Where should I go tonight?”
Merrick glanced out the window at the rain that continued to fall. There were few choices at this time of night. Taking her to his aunt might be a possibility. He wasn’t certain whose side she would take, Arabella’s or Farnsworth’s, but he didn’t want to risk a scene that might upset Arabella even more. If he delivered her to Aunt Pen and convinced her to hold her tongue, he would owe her, of course. The Fords would expect something from him in return for their aid.
Other acquaintances of good standing would be even more problematic to beg help from. Yet there was another possibility that required no effort at all. Arabella could stay here with him. Farnsworth would never look for her here, and she could make her decisions in the morning when she was calmer. Blundering about in the night in her distressed state would only upset her more. She would sleep far more peacefully under Merrick’s roof. There would also be no awkward questions to answer about the bruise forming on her cheek or neck in the morning. There would be no discussion either of why her personal belongings were not with her.
But if she were found out, her reputation would be in tatters.
If he opened his mouth and made the suggestion, would she be shocked even more? Was he asking too much of her to let him watch over her for one night? He was getting used to being viewed as a friend rather than a seducer. Asking her to stay risked her reputation and was likely to destroy the small tendrils of friendship that had led her to seek safety with him.
Yet in the end, Holland returned and saved him from any decision. “I took the liberty of preparing a bedchamber for Lady Farnsworth,” Holland said softly. “If you’ll but come with me, madam, I am sure you may rest your head in more comfortable surroundings.”
Arabella jumped, her head snapping upward, her eyes widening in fright as she stared across the room. The blemish to her pale cheek would be unmistakable by morning. Anyone who saw her would question her appearance. Her face turned a fiery pink. She bit her lip but eventually faced Merrick, her eyes full of hope and misery. “I should not like to impose.”
She wanted to stay. Though his heart leapt at keeping her here, he patted her hand again in what he hoped was a brotherly way. “It is no imposition at all. Holland has already made arrangements for you it seems, and I would certainly feel easier knowing you were beyond Farnsworth’s reach. Go with him, and tomorrow we can discuss how to go on.”
Her relieved smile was fleeting, turning into a grimace of pain. She lifted her hand to her tender face and held it there, letting the blanket fall at long last. The state of her gown, ruined by the elements outside, reminded Merrick of what had brought her here.
Any thoughts he’d entertained about pursuing her for himself crumbled to ashes. Arabella had fled from one arranged marriage. She might not be at all interested in becoming a wife even to save her reputation. All he could be to her was a friend, and she needed him to be only that tonight. He would be the best friend he could be and never let her know he’d considered more than that.
She glanced at him, a shy, hesitant smile lingering on her lips. “You, sir, are not at all as your reputation marks you.”
His pulse pounded at her compliment, but he merely stood by and gave her room to stand unaided, anxious that too much proximity might make her fearful again. “Goodnight, Lady Farnsworth.”
She reclaimed the wool blanket and clutched it around her and her sodden dress. Her hesitant shuffle across the room broke his heart. There was little left of the confident woman he had admired two nights ago.
At the doorway, she turned back. “Goodnight, Rothwell, and thank you.”
~ * ~
After about an hour, Holland joined Merrick in the study, where he sat staring into an empty brandy glass. Holland closed the door behind him and leaned against it. “She is resting now, I believe. Everything has grown quiet.”