Astor looked steadily at his friend and curbed the sharp retort he had been about to utter. “Arabella seems to be doing well enough here,” he said. “Shall we play a hand of cards, Hubbard?”
Chapter 6
LATER that night Lord Astor sat down on the edge of his wife’s bed before snuffing the candles.
“You have had a busy day, Arabella,” he said. “Did you enjoy the soiree?”
“Yes, I did, my lord,” she said. “Your aunt was obliging enough to present me to a large number of interesting people. And Frances too. And a few of them have promised to send us invitations.”
“Of course,” he said. “You are Lady Astor. You will find yourself much in demand for a wide array of entertainments.” He touched her cheek with one knuckle. “You did not like the menagerie, did you?”
She watched him, her eyes guarded. “It was very kind of you to take us, my lord,” she said. “You know how much I miss George and Emily and you thought of a way to cheer me up. I am grateful.”
“But it was not a good way, as it happened, was it?” he said. “You think it cruel to confine animals so?”
“I am just silly,” she said. “You were very kind.”
He smiled. “You may express your own feelings and opinions, you know, Arabella,” he said. “I will not be offended if you occasionally disagree with me. And on this occasion, I am not even sure that you do. I saw those poor creatures through your eyes this afternoon, and you are quite right.”
She looked earnestly up into his eyes. “I had a horrifying mental image of a country where dogs are strange,” she said, “and I pictured George in such a country, confined in a little cage so that people could come and stare and marvel. And I could not bear the thought, my lord. I think I will have nightmares.”
“George will be here with you soon,” he said. “You said that he was not allowed in the house at Parkland because of your sister? Perhaps we will allow him to inhabit the kitchen area of this house as that mangy little cat does who adopted us off the street about a year ago. Would that please you?”
Her face lit up. “Oh, yes,” she said. “How kind you are, my lord.”
“My name is Geoffrey,” he said.
She flushed. “Yes, my . . . Yes,” she said.
“Are you very tired, Arabella?” he asked. “Would you prefer that I said good night and returned to my own rooms?”
Her flush deepened. “If that is what you wish, my lord,” she said.
He smiled fleetingly.
“I want to make you comfortable,” she said. “It is my duty to make you comfortable.”
He touched the backs of his fingers to her hot cheek and rose to remove his dressing gown and snuff the candles.
“Very well,” he said. “I shall let you make me comfortable, Arabella.”
One week later, Arabella was walking in Hyde Park, her face turned up to the early-morning sun, her mood entirely happy. She had George’s leather lead wound around her hand. George himself was running across the grass, snuffling at the roots of trees, trying to find something familiar about this new territory. Arabella had let him run loose once they were safely through the Grosvenor Gate into the park. She herself kept to the footpath, as the grass was still wet from almost a week of rain.
George had arrived the day before while she was out paying afternoon calls with Lady Berry and Frances. Both he and Emily. His lordship had come out into the hallway with George as soon as she arrived home, and George had gone into an ecstasy of jumping and barking and tail-wagging and bottom-wriggling. She had not behaved with much greater dignity, she feared. She had gone down on her knees in full sight of two liveried footmen and hugged him. He had behaved like a perfect gentleman until she came on the scene, his lordship had complained when he could be heard above the din of reunion. But he had not been angry.
Even Frances had been pleased and had totally forgotten to sneeze. Arabella had decided to go out to the stables to welcome Emily before taking off her bonnet and pelisse. His lordship had gone with her after producing a leather lead with which to confine George, a contraption her dog had not liked at all. Arabella would have preferred to go alone, but truth to tell, she had been so happy and so grateful to her husband that she did not feel nearly as shy of him as she usually did.
And now she was out in the park with George, on a beautiful April morning. She could pretend she was in the country if she wished, all was so quiet and smelled so fresh. She felt like running with sheer joy, but she remembered that she was a married lady now and in London and that her husband had warned her against doing anything so improper.
She would heed his warning. Especially when he had been so kind to her. She was still terribly shy of him and still felt quite overshadowed by his splendor. But she had learned during the two weeks of their marriage to respect and even like her husband. He took her and Frances about much more than she had expected. And he had bought her those lovely pearls just the day after she thought perhaps she had displeased him because he had not come to her at night. And flowers the day after she had thought so for the same reason again. And he had taken her to see the menagerie because he had thought it would please her.
Arabella was not feeling nearly so unhappy with her marriage as she had expected when she had first realized the mistake they had made about the identity of the new Lord Astor, though she still wished that she were just a little prettier and he just a little less handsome. She was heartened, though, by the fact that she had definitely lost weight.
He had not hurt her since their wedding night. She had been very relieved to discover that fact on the night of their return to London. She very much wanted to be a good wife. Now she could be so without the danger that she would gasp with pain at an unguarded moment. It was not even unpleasant to perform her main marriage duty, she had found. She always lay still and relaxed for him, and thought about how fortunate she was to have a kind husband. And one who felt good. Yes, she had been surprised to find that, after all, the marriage act was not an unpleasant experience for a wife. At least, for her it was not.
She did not think his lordship could find her a very exciting partner. But she did hope that she made him comfortable. He had teased her about it that one night. After telling her that she might make him comfortable, he had got into her bed beside her and given her the chance to do just that. Then afterward he had rolled to her side on the bed and propped himself up on his elbow.
“Thank you, Arabella,” he had said. “You have made me very comfortable indeed.” And he had laid one finger lightly along the length of her nose.
