He told Grayling almost everything that had occurred over the past weeks, leaving out nothing of what he’d done in his search for a bride and why he believed Arabella was the better choice. They were good together. He did leave off mention of Arabella’s virginity and the recent loss of it when they became lovers. That was private and would remain between them alone. “My aunt has managed to turn Arabella’s trust from me and has convinced her to leave Winslette. I had not meant for that to happen. When I bought the estate, it was with the understanding that this would always be her home.”
Grayling settled against a desktop, arms folded across his chest. “Arabella has always trod her own path. It seems my fears of a few months ago were accurate. How did you convince her to stay with you?”
He shrugged. “I did nothing. She seemed determined to hide, and I simply never suggested she leave. If not for my aunt, it’s possible we would both still be in my London town house. As of a few days ago, she’d only just regained her confidence around others.”
“I would never have guessed her to have been injured and afraid. She didn’t confess the extent of the situation yesterday.” Gray tilted his head. “Thank you for looking after her so well. For a scoundrel who can have almost any woman he wants, I’m rather proud of your restraint.”
“Past tense.” He shook his head. “I did what you suggested. I asked Arabella to be my wife this morning, well before the timing was right, and have been refused. I don’t know what to say to convince her I don’t want anyone else. She knew about the special license already. Found it herself and pretended not to until this morning. I fear the existence of the damn thing has convinced her I’m in a hurry to wed.”
Grayling’s gaze grew shrewd. “She grows more reserved when troubled. She looks about to weep every time your aunt speaks. I take those two things as a very good sign. She’s conflicted about what to do. Augusta used to worry when Arabella tried so hard to be agreeable. Rosemary has voiced the same concerns in different ways. The only thing I can suggest is patience. Destroying the license or allowing the license to lapse might ease her tension. How patient are you prepared to be?”
“I’d wait an eternity just to see her smile again.” Hearing his own conclusions from Grayling’s lips brought relief. He might still have a chance to change her mind, but revisiting the subject today wouldn’t help. He’d have to give her time. He could do that. “The license is still in London, so I can do nothing there. Let’s return to the ladies.”
Merrick stepped back into the drawing room and glanced around without seeing Arabella. Lady Grayling was still trading subtle barbs with his aunt, the three children lolling on the thick carpet between them. Although Merrick listened for her footsteps, Arabella appeared nowhere nearby. He glanced at his pocket watch, wondering how soon after his departure she’d slipped away. He and Gray had spoken perhaps a quarter hour. It was unlike a hostess to desert her guests for that length of time.
When the ladies paused in their conversation, Merrick cleared his throat to interrupt. “When and where did Lady Farnsworth go?”
The pair glanced at each other, then at the clock. His aunt’s expression grew disapproving. “Close on a quarter hour. She did not say what she needed to do, either.”
Lady Grayling rose from her chair. “She excused herself soon after you left. I assumed she needed a private moment or was coming to speak with you.”
“We did not see her at all. If you’ll excuse me, I would like to check on her.”
Merrick left them quickly, took the stairs two at a time, and barged into Arabella’s bedchamber. The room was empty, as were all rooms above stairs when he inspected them. Sure that he’d overlooked no smaller chambers, he headed below and poked his head into every chamber he remembered from his tour of the house. In the small room where Arabella’s fledgling greenhouse resided, Merrick found his half brother sprawled on the floor untidily, unresponsive when his name was called.
Merrick rushed to him and shook his shoulder. “Holland. Wake up, brother.”
Holland stirred slowly, blinking at the room as he turned over. Blood oozed from a nasty head wound and Merrick quickly pressed a clean handkerchief to the injury. “What happened to you?”
“I don’t remember.” Holland slowly sat up and rested against him a long moment, one hand held to his head. “I heard a sound in here and thought to inquire if Lady Arabella needed my help.”
Relief coursed through him. “Did she?”
“She wasn’t here. I never saw her.” Holland fumbled for his pocket watch and stared at the time. “I don’t remember anything beyond that moment. I think it was a little after the hour when I came in.”
Merrick peeled the cloth from the wound as Holland put his pocket watch away. The bleeding didn’t seem too bad, but he wasn’t used to such matters. He’d need help with his brother. “Someone else must have been here though.”
He put his arm about his brother and lifted him carefully to his feet.
“The way my head hurts, I’m not surprised.” Holland groaned. “Do you think Farnsworth returned?”
Cold fury filled him. “He better not have. I’ll get you settled to rest, then search for Arabella.”
Holland waved his hand. “Find your lady first. I can rest here as well as anywhere.”
“Don’t be absurd. I’ll not leave you alone.” Merrick bore the bulk of Holland’s weight and shuffled him from the room. By the time they reached the drawing room doorway, Holland was passing in and out of awareness. Merrick was terrified. “I need some help,” he shouted.
Aunt Penelope turned as he came through the door and then fainted clean away, settling to the floor with a sob. Some use she would be. Grayling reached them first and helped settle his brother on the fine damask sofa, and then Merrick checked on his aunt.
“She’s only fainted,” Lady Grayling said as she fanned the older woman’s face briskly. “I’m sure she’ll recover.”
Merrick shrugged and then put his aunt back in her chair. “So much for her reputed strong stomach. I never imagined a little blood could upset her so badly.”
Grayling helped his wife stand and then glanced at his brother. “What happened to Holland? Did you find Arabella?”
“I don’t know and no, I haven’t located her yet. She is not upstairs and while looking for her I found Holland out cold on the floor of Arabella’s green tiny greenhouse. He thought she was there but said he saw no one in the room.”
Holland groaned, his eyes fluttering open again. When he made to rise, Merrick pressed his hand to the man’s chest. “Rest. You’ve taken quite a blow.”
“I need to help you find your bride,” he insisted. “Don’t let her get away.”
Merrick patted Holland’s chest. It seemed at least his brother agreed with his decision to marry Arabella. Holland’s approval meant a lot to him. “Not a chance. You must promise to remain here until I return. If you cannot, I’ll have young Danny come sit on your chest to hold you still.”
Holland’s eyes flickered across the room and an embarrassed expression flickered across his face. When Merrick lifted his gaze in that direction, his aunt watched them, a strange, almost wistful expression evident.
“Are you well now, Aunt Pen?”
“Of course. Go find Lady Farnsworth,” his aunt croaked, tears filling her eyes as she stared at them. “I can watch over him.”
An odd look passed between her and his brother, and though unwilling to leave him in the dubious care of his maiden aunt, he was comforted by the knowledge that Lady Grayling would be there too. She certainly would send word to him if Holland worsened.