She closed her eyes. “Then I truly am dependent only on him.”
“Not if you don’t want to be.” He caught her hands in his and brought them to his chest. “Farnsworth seemed very keen to be rid of it and now it seems clear as to why.”
“He wanted me in his power. He wanted to make sure I had nowhere to go but where he told me.” She freed her hand from his grip and pressed her hands to her face, hiding behind them momentarily. When she emerged, her expression was bitter. She rubbed her throat, caressing the place that Farnsworth had held her and caused such injury. “Cecily tried to warn me, but I dismissed it. I never imagined the scenario reaching this conclusion.”
“I doubt few would have foreseen this occurring.” He caressed the back of her clutching fingers. “Farnsworth cannot come to Winslette now that I own it. He has no right.”
“Why did you buy my home?”
Merrick moved Arabella to the setting by the window as he tried to put his decision into some form of order that would make sense to her. “The property is a beauty and is well situated. At first I considered whether it might do for Grayling, an expansion of his property, but with no time to get word to him, I purchased it first. I own nothing in Wiltshire but am often there as Grayling’s guest. It is a good investment. If later he’s keen to add the acres to his own, it’s a matter that will always be open for discussion. But you must believe I never had any intention of throwing you from the estate.”
“But you intend to live there?”
“No. When you told me it was on the market, I couldn’t imagine you not living there. Having Grayling as a confidant means I knew much more about the property than most interested buyers would. By all accounts, you managed it well without assistance. I have no qualms at all for you to remain as long as you wish.”
“You would let a woman manage one of your properties?” Her eyes widened and then she shook her head. “Before Farnsworth would come every few months and make me feel my decisions were foolish. I guess now I must concede he only left me in peace and limited freedom because I mourned his brother. Coming to London changed that.”
The color in her cheeks drained away. Merrick quickly touched her arm in an attempt to send her insecurities into the far distance. “Enough of Farnsworth for tonight. He is no longer important.”
“No. No, he certainly is not.”
“That’s my girl.” Merrick swallowed against a suddenly dry mouth. “I should mention from the outset that I should only need visit once or twice a year to assure myself that all is well with you. I doubt I would ever reverse any decision you made. Grayling has indicated you take a very sensible and farseeing approach to land management.”
She nodded slowly. “I had ample time to read about many things most married women do not. My husband had his own life and was rarely underfoot.”
Curiosity got the better of him. “Did you like being married?”
Her face changed to one of bitterness. “Not really. But after my husband died, I came to enjoy the freedom to come and go at will without explaining my every movement or expense. Then Farnsworth summoned me to be his daughter’s chaperone and I was once more forced to account for my every action and shilling spent. I miss Wiltshire and my friends. Farnsworth insisted I do things his way, far too often.”
“I see.” Merrick bit his lip. Arabella hadn’t been treated very fairly. While he could understand her frustration, he wouldn’t ever treat his wife that way. He hoped they would share a life. Given her wish for freedom, he decided then and there that he wouldn’t impose on her by staying at Winslette. He’d ride across from Grayling’s estate and keep his visits as short as possible. “Arabella, are you ready to go home? I fear if you remain much longer under my roof then my aunt will do her worst to ruin you or force the alternative.”
She looked up at him, confusion clear in her expression. “What alternative could there be?”
He eased back from her disappointed that a marriage between them had to be discussed under such circumstances. “My aunt would do everything in her power to avoid family scandal. She would insist I marry you.”
Arabella drew back a little. “I don’t want to be married. Not simply to avoid a scandal. I was naïve in marrying the first time, and I like what little freedom I have gained since. I abandoned my life to avoid a marriage I didn’t want. I doubt your aunt could persuade me to anything right now.”
“I assumed as much.” He smiled, though his disappointment was acute. He did not blame her. Marriage required sacrifice. “Can you be ready to leave early tomorrow? If so, I’ll take you home.”
She stared at him a long moment, her teeth worrying her lower lip. “Are you not busy with the season’s amusements? You go out so often that I would not mind if you’d rather remain here. I can easily make the journey alone.”
His heart clattered against his ribs frantically at the speculation on her face. Was she curious about whether he’d found a bride? “I wouldn’t dream of it. I assure you there is nothing of importance to keep me in London at present.”
“Oh.” Her eyes held his for a long moment, her expression clearing as she smiled shyly. “I will not mind going home with you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In a world where every word had to be guarded and every decision weighed carefully, Arabella’s choice to place her trust in Rothwell was extraordinary, even to her. At the end of each day of their journey home to Winslette, they’d had a quiet dinner together and then she’d spend the long hours of the night tossing and turning, finally to be awoken by Rothwell’s quiet tap on the door each morning so they could enjoy a very early departure, as was his preference.
They had been traveling since before the sun rose each morning, leaving London sleeping in their wake. They’d taken rooms at pleasant inns along the way, but had resumed their journey each morning without incident. She had barely spent a moment alone and was not sorry for it.
Rothwell remained alert on his side of the carriage, Arabella facing toward home. It was not lost on her the sense of peace that came with leaving London. What she wasn’t so sure of was why Rothwell expected nothing in return for his assistance.
His head turned from the window and their eyes met across the carriage. He neither smiled nor frowned, simply held her gaze a long moment before returning his attention to the view. It was almost as if he felt nothing about helping her. That was comforting but also a touch insulting. After giving it some thought, she realized she would miss his quiet company and the way he instantly made her feel safe.
Her gaze traveled to the man seated at his side. She had been rather startled to find Mr. Holland seated inside the carriage before she entered it that first morning. Rothwell gave no explanation for Holland’s presence, but the man made as unlikely a chaperone as there had ever been. He smiled as he turned the page.
And there it was again. A resemblance she couldn’t dismiss after so many hours of close confinement. Holland’s lips quirked often, a reaction perhaps to a passage in the book he was reading, and he turned the page, looking very much like Rothwell.
Arabella leaned her head against the squabs, allowing her deductions to form, unimpeded by emotion. Rothwell and Holland were related of a certainty. There was similarity in much of their faces, though only Rothwell could truly be considered handsome. Holland was shorter and seemed a few years older than his employer. She had few doubts they shared the same blood—they appeared as similar as brothers.