Arabella’s smile faded. She had already come to that realization. She couldn’t make crucial decisions about her future based solely on what had happened in her parents’ past, or in her own.
Before she could reply, Victoria leaned forward in her chair, her expression intent. “I grievously regret the foolish choices I made, Arabella, but you have always been wiser and stronger than I. You needn’t let my circumstances prejudice your feelings about love and marriage to your detriment.”
Perhaps she was stronger than her mother, Arabella reflected, but she wasn’t so certain she was wiser. She had let fear rule her life for too long. But no more.
“You cannot judge all relationships by what happened between me and your father,” Victoria insisted. “Simply because we had a terrible marriage doesn’t mean that good ones are not possible.”
“I realize that, Mama.” She had already come to that conclusion herself.
“You can find love and happiness in marriage. I did at long last. It took me years to comprehend what a good man Henri is. Years to find true love when it was right under my nose the whole time. Perhaps true love is right under your nose as well.”
She looked at her mother keenly. “What are you saying, Mama?”
“That you have already found a good man, Arabella. Lord Danvers went to significant trouble on your behalf. He must care for you a great deal to go to such lengths. Otherwise he would never have made so determined an effort to help us reconcile.”
Indeed, Arabella reflected, Marcus had gone well beyond his obligations as her guardian, particularly when he had already agreed last week to relinquish the position as a result of their wager.
If she had wanted proof that he cared about her, she need look no further, Arabella knew. But did it mean he truly loved her as he claimed? She desperately hoped so.
“I think he does care for me,” Arabella murmured.
Victoria nodded. “And he seems to be nothing like your father. Can you imagine Charles putting himself out for anyone like that?”
No, she couldn’t imagine such a thing. Marcus was far, far different from her father.
Roslyn spoke up just then, her tone solemn. “Do you care for Lord Danvers, Arabella?”
She hesitated only a moment. “Very much.” She sent Lily an apologetic glance. “I vowed I wouldn’t let myself fall in love with him, but in the end, I discovered I never had any choice.”
Lily regarded her solemnly, clearly troubled by her admission, but Roslyn smiled. “I only want you to be happy, Arabella. If you love him, that is all that matters.”
Lily, however, didn’t agree. “That is not all that matters, Belle. You loved Underwood, and look how much he hurt you. I can’t bear to see you make the same mistake again.”
“I know,” Arabella said fondly. “But Marcus says he loves me.”
“Underwood claimed he loved you, but he didn’t. How can you be certain the earl is telling the truth?”
Arabella gave a light shrug. “I cannot be certain, so I will just have to trust him.”
Lily still wasn’t convinced. “If you marry him, he could make you miserable like Papa did Mama.”
“I am willing to risk it.”
In truth, she could do nothing else. She fervently wanted the kind of soul deep love that Tess had spoken about. The kind her mother had found in her second marriage. She thought-hoped-she could have that love with Marcus. But even if he didn’t love her, without a doubt, her life would be unbearably empty without him. She had learned that painful lesson during this past week.
“Lily…” Arabella began, wondering how she could explain her feelings. Finally, she merely smiled. “I intend to marry Marcus because I don’t want to live without him. It is as simple as that.”
The anxious look in Lily’s eyes wavered, then faded. “If that is what you truly want…”
“It is. I want it with all my heart.”
“Thank heavens,” Victoria murmured.
Arabella met her mother’s smiling gaze, then took a deep breath as she felt her bravado wavering a measure.
Marrying Marcus might not be so simple as she had made it sound. After their acrimonious parting, he might very well wish her in Hades. She had angered him profoundly by not trusting him enough to believe his declaration of love, and angered him still further by rejecting his offer of marriage so adamantly.
But she would convince him to forgive her, Arabella vowed, even if she had to grovel. She would start by admitting that he had won their wager. She would make him understand that she had come to her senses. And if Marcus loved her half as much as she loved him, he wouldn’t let her stubborn blindness stand in the way of their happiness together.
Chapter Eighteen
How does one grovel properly? I think I owe it to Marcus for frustrating him so.
– Arabella to Fanny
“What in blazes has come over you, Marcus?” Heath demanded after nearly being skewered by a flurry of angry thrusts during their Monday morning fencing session at Marcus’s London town house.
Halting his ferocious attack, Marcus lowered his foil and stood breathing heavily.
From the sidelines, Drew stepped forward. “Why don’t you call it a morning, old man? You are bloody dangerous with that blade.”
Marcus raked a hand through his hair. “My apologies, Heath. I should not have taken my frustrations out on you.”
“How good of you to realize it,” Heath drawled before adding more seriously, “I wish to hell you would find a cure for your ailment. You have been acting like a wounded wolf ever since you returned to London.”
“I know.” His mood had been foul since parting from Arabella, despite his fiendishly intense bid to work off his frustrations.
“Why don’t you simply throw Miss Loring over your shoulder and carry her off somewhere?” Heath suggested. “If you had a month alone with her, surely you could convince her to accept your suit.”
That idea had merit, Marcus thought before shaking his head with sardonic humor. “I haven’t quite reached the point of resorting to barbarism.”
“Well, you need to do something, old fellow, before you accidently exterminate us. You would regret it, I’m certain.”
“I expect I would.” Biting back a rueful grin, Marcus withdrew to the sidelines as Drew took the floor with Heath to resume fencing practice.
He would settle for abduction if he had to, Marcus knew, tossing his rapier on a table. He damned sure wasn’t willing to admit permanent defeat in his courtship of Arabella. In fact, he was devising a new plan. His solicitors had drawn up the legal documents granting her and her sisters independence from his guardianship, but he hadn’t sent them yet, since he was still determining how to use them to his best advantage.
Meanwhile, he was letting his temper cool. He had wanted to throttle Arabella last week when she refused to believe his declaration of love. He’d never made that startling confession to any woman before, and having it thrown back in his teeth along with his proposal had made his blood boil.
He still felt the urge to return to Danvers Hall and shake Arabella out of her stubborn blindness. She was making a grievous mistake, letting her past ruin her future. She would miss him, he had no doubt. Just as he missed the devil out of her-
The distant rap of the front door knocker intruded on Marcus’s dark thoughts, but knowing his butler would answer it, he paid little attention until the sound of a familiar feminine voice followed. Marcus felt his stomach muscles clench. Arabella.
He suspected she had come to demand her emancipation but moved closer to the door, the better to hear.
Hobbs’s forbidding voice floated down the corridor. “His lordship is otherwise engaged at present, Miss Loring.”
“Ah, yes, I can tell he is fencing again. But I believe he will receive me.”