“Y-yes, my l-lord…of course.”
Onslow scowled as Marcus led Sybil back inside, while Sybil smiled brightly and shot Arabella a triumphant look as she passed.
Quelling the unexpected prick of jealousy she felt at seeing the girl on Marcus’s arm, Arabella caught his eye and offered him a look of relief and gratitude. But it was nearly two hours later before the ball ended and she had the opportunity to express her appreciation personally. When Marcus sought her out on the sidelines, she was moving toward the ballroom entrance doors, where the guests were congregating to claim their wraps and to order their carriages.
“Thank you immensely for rescuing Sybil,” Arabella said sincerely. “I will have to keep a closer eye on her in the future, but tonight you averted a potential disaster.”
“You are quite welcome.” He smiled. “I know how difficult it is for a woman of your independent nature to ask for help from a man, but I am gratified that you need me for something.”
“Men are sometimes necessary,” Arabella agreed with a smile. “And I admit, you handled Sybil better than I could.” She paused. “I also wish to thank you again for being so generous to my sisters.”
Marcus shrugged. “It was of no moment. But I mean to claim a reward.”
“Reward?”
“Nothing too taxing. I require your attendance in London Wednesday evening.”
Arabella sent him a little frown. “In London?”
He smiled crookedly. “Don’t look so anxious, sweeting. I merely wish to take you to the theater. I promised weeks ago to escort my sister and aunt to a play at Covent Garden, and I would like you to accompany us. Lady Freemantle has agreed to act as chaperone for you, if you are worried about propriety.”
Arabella’s eyebrow shot up. “You mean to say that you have already settled the matter with her?”
“Yes, so you would have no reason to refuse. I thought you might enjoy an evening on the town. You have been working much too hard of late.”
Arabella felt herself searching his blue gaze. When was the last time a man had been concerned with her enjoyment? Certainly not her father or her step-uncle. Not even her betrothed had cared enough about her welfare to put himself to this much trouble.
“Come, admit it, you want to attend,” Marcus coaxed with a disarming grin.
His perceptiveness was unsettling, but Arabella couldn’t deny his offer held great appeal. She did long for an evening in London. The academy was close enough to the city that she and the other teachers occasionally accompanied their pupils to plays and operas so the girls could practice their social graces. But attending the theater with her pupils was not the same as attending with Marcus.
Which was precisely why she should decline. It would doubtless be a mistake to spend an entire evening out with him. But if Winifred were to accompany them…
“You cannot use the excuse that you have nothing to wear,” Marcus interjected. “I ordered the modiste to make up a dozen more evening gowns for you.”
Arabella stared at him in exasperation. “After I expressly asked you not to spend your fortune on me?”
“Precisely, my lovely Belle. I didn’t want any argument from you about taking my charity. So say you will come. I want you to meet Eleanor. I expect you will like each other.”
Surely it wouldn’t hurt to indulge just this once, Arabella told herself. After the intriguing tales she’d heard about his sister, she did indeed want to meet Eleanor. And merely because she accepted Marcus’s invitation to meet his family didn’t mean she had to accept his proposal of marriage.
“Thank you,” she finally said. “I would enjoy attending the theater with you Wednesday evening and meeting Eleanor.”
The humorous creases around his mouth deepened. “Good. You have spared me having to browbeat you.” He glanced at the diminishing crowd. “I’ll order my carriage now if you will locate your sisters.”
Arabella watched him walk away, marveling at how persuasive Marcus could be. Yet it was his genuine kindness that brought a strange ache to her throat. Before meeting him, she had presumed him to be nothing but a bored, selfish rake like so many of his peers, but this past week had certainly dashed all her prior assumptions about him.
His kindness was more devastating than all his sensual efforts at seduction-and made him infinitely harder to resist. And far more dangerous.
Arabella was still following him with her gaze when Lady Freemantle found her.
“I would call the Loring sisters’ return to society a triumph,” Winifred declared with delight. “And you have Lord Danvers to thank for it.”
“Yes, we do,” Arabella agreed with a smile. “I have already expressed my gratitude to him.”
Winifred’s gaze narrowed on her. “I think you ought to accept his offer of marriage, my dear. He would make you a good husband.”
Arabella felt her smile fading. “Winifred, I know you mean well-”
Her ladyship held up her hands. “I realize you don’t want my interference, but it would ease my heart to see you well settled. But that is the last I shall say on the subject for this evening. For now I will take myself home. Give my love to Roslyn and Lilian.”
Arabella couldn’t help but laugh as Winifred moved away. But when she turned to scan the crowd for her sisters, she found her mind wandering to her friend’s comment.
Was it true that Marcus would make her a good husband? More crucially, what kind of marriage might she have with him if she agreed to become his wife and bear his children?
Noblemen of his stamp didn’t readily give their hearts, and no matter how much she appreciated his kindness and protectiveness, she wasn’t ready to risk the humiliation and pain of opening her own heart again and having it rejected. And without genuine, indisputable, mutual love, she had no desire whatsoever for marriage.
For the first time since his proposal, however, Arabella allowed herself to wonder what a union with Marcus would be like. If she were his wife, she would have a life of ease and comfort, with no financial worries. And she would be given the respect due his countess. As Marcus had pointed out, Lady Danvers would be able to lord it over all their haughty neighbors. Of course, marrying for status and fortune did not ensure happiness, nor could it prevent the kind of misery her parents had endured.
But could their courtship possibly develop into deeper feelings between them? Or was she just indulging in wishful thinking?
For the most part, she was content with her life. Her school was fulfilling, and she had wonderful sisters and friends. Yet admittedly she was lonely at times and found herself wanting something more. Four years ago, Arabella reminded herself, she had earnestly wanted a husband and family, just as Roslyn did now.
What if she were to seriously consider Marcus’s proposal? Could they come to love each other over time? What kind of marriage could she hope to have with him?
More importantly, did she dare risk the hurt she had faced once before? She couldn’t deny the thought was a little frightening.
Yet she didn’t have to decide now, Arabella reflected. Their wager would last for one more week. When it was over, she could declare her independence from Marcus. But meanwhile…what if she were to pretend their courtship was genuine?
She spied her sisters just then, and when they joined her, Roslyn was smiling serenely and even Lily looked pleased by the evening.
“I gather the ball was not as painful as you feared?” Arabella teased her youngest sister.
“No,” Lily agreed good-naturedly. “It was indeed more pleasant than I expected. No doubt because everyone was eager to gain the earl’s favor.”
“But you found him amiable and charming yourself,” Roslyn said, laughing. “Come, admit it, Lily, your opinion of the earl has improved significantly.”