She was finding it very difficult to support the prospect of marrying Lord Astor. She would never be able to lose her awareness of her own dreadful shortcomings with him. She would always be uncomfortably aware of how young she looked, how small and plump, how round and childish of face. She would always be aware of the dullness of her conversation and the narrowness of her experience with life.
Oh, dear, Arabella thought, rubbing George’s stomach with such energy that he waved his paws in the air in perfect ecstasy, she could never be comfortable with Lord Astor! And all she had ever asked of this marriage was that she feel at ease and that she be able to make her husband comfortable. Everything would have been all right with an older man. She need not have been conscious of herself with an older man.
But with this viscount! She would forever feel inferior. And she would forever feel uncomfortable in the knowledge that he must constantly look at her with distaste at worst, indifference at best. She would want to impress this man, and in her wildest dreams Arabella knew that there was nothing on this earth she could possibly do to draw his admiration.
Oh, how she wished that it were Frances who was to marry him. Frances was at least as beautiful as he was handsome. It was true that she had no more experience with life than Arabella, but with Frances that did not matter. Indeed, her very innocence gave her charm. A marriage between Lord Astor and Frances would be such an equal match. They would suit. They would be happy. He would be proud of Frances. Arabella had seen the day before that he already admired her sister.
And Arabella had a dreadful suspicion that Lord Astor had thought that Frances was his chosen bride. She had assumed that Mama had communicated her choice to him, but perhaps she had not. Perhaps the viscount had come to Parkland not knowing which sister was to be his bride. And if that were so, it was the most natural thing in the world that he would have thought Frances was the one. How dreadfully disappointed he would be when he discovered the truth this morning. In fact, perhaps he would renege on his promise and leave alone for London immediately.
What a dreadful humiliation that would be! Worse even than having to marry the man.
Arabella became suddenly and paralyzingly aware that the viscount, clad with suffocating handsomeness in green superfine coat, buff pantaloons, and white-topped Hessians, was striding toward the stables from the direction of the house. Perhaps he was leaving already. Or perhaps he had come in search of her, having learned the dreadful truth.
She ducked down, trying to make herself invisible even as George scrambled to his feet, barking furiously, and rushed toward the stranger. She might as well have waved a large red flag above her head, Arabella thought ruefully as she got to her feet with as much nonchalance as a wildly beating heart would allow, brushed at her skirt, and walked toward him, a smile of welcome on her face.
Her second guess had been the correct one, she thought with a sinking heart; he was on his way to talk to her. He turned immediately in her direction, and without any hesitation. Arabella stood still and waited. And smiled.
Lady Astor had been successful in persuading her eldest daughter to express her grief in words. It was not quite as Arabella thought, though.
“Mama, oh, Mama,” Frances said, sniffing against her handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes with it, “why did no one think to inform us of the demise of his lordship? No, he was not his lordship, was he? Papa was still alive when he died. He was Papa’s heir, yet no one told us of his death.”
“It was on account of that quarrel, doubtless,” her mother said. “So foolish it all was, to be sure. I cannot even rightly recall what it was all about, though I do remember that Papa was entirely in the right of it. But it was remiss and indeed spiteful of the family not to inform us of the passing of Papa’s heir. I do not wonder that the news coming suddenly as it did has shocked your sensibilities, my love.”
“Oh, Mama, if I had only known!” Frances wailed, wringing her hands affectingly. “He is so young and handsome and fashionable. And amiable.”
“Indeed, his lordship is a pleasant surprise,” Lady Astor said. “A very agreeable young man indeed. He has not once made me feel that I am merely a guest in his home.”
“Don’t you see, Mama?” Frances’ voice had become tragic. “There would have been no need for Bella’s sacrifice if I had just known. I might have taken the burden upon myself.”
“Indeed, my love,” her mother said with a sigh, “you would make a far lovelier viscountess than Bella. And I am sure his lordship would prefer to have you. He has had eyes for no one but you since his arrival yesterday afternoon.”
Frances pressed her handkerchief to her eyes again.
“Of course,” her mother said, brightening, “I have not spoken to his lordship yet. He does not know which of you is to honor him with her hand. I am sure that Bella would have no objection to a change in plan. Shall I talk to her, my love, and suggest that you marry Lord Astor after all?”
Frances looked up, tears sparkling on her lashes, her eyes a deeper blue than usual. “Oh, Mama,” she said, “that you should be the one so to tempt me. No, I could not do it. Dear Bella has made the sacrifice so cheerfully for all our sakes, and I was only too ready to allow her to do so when I imagined that his lordship was an old man. Now she is being rewarded for her selflessness. She is to have a young and handsome husband. She deserves her good fortune, Mama, for she is an angel. I am happy for her. I truly am.”
She proceeded to prove her point by dissolving into tears yet again.
Lady Astor rose to her feet and patted her daughter reassuringly on the shoulder. “I think I have two angels for daughters,” she said. “You have a generous heart, my love. Many is the sister who would be jealous of Bella under the circumstances. But you are right. She deserves this reward. His lordship will be fortunate indeed to acquire such a sweet bride.”
She patted Frances on the shoulder again and announced that it was time to join his lordship in the morning room to make the nuptial arrangements.
Lord Astor did not want to be on his way to find Miss Arabella Wilson. Not by any means—she was the small dark-haired one, he gathered. But he supposed there was no point at all in delaying the moment. Sooner or later he must go through the formality of making the girl an offer. It might as well be sooner, since there was no earthly way he could get himself out of the predicament.
Just the day before, he had been prepared for disaster. He had talked himself into expecting that his bride might be ugly or awkward or vulgar. He had even persuaded himself of the possibility that she might be all three. It was cruel of fate to have buoyed up his spirits as it had done from the moment of his arrival until just half an hour before.
It had not even entered his head since the previous afternoon that perhaps his chosen bride was not the beautiful Frances. Indeed, he had not dreamed that either of the other two girls was old enough to be considered. He had not taken a good look at either, but his distinct impression had been that both were mere children. Yet it seemed that the solicitor had not erred in the one detail he had given about the three daughters of his predecessor. Miss Arabella Wilson was eighteen years old.
Old enough to be his bride.
It had been a cruel blow, when he had renewed his offer to Lady Astor a little earlier, to be told that, yes, she was sensible of the great honor he was doing her family and that her second daughter would be happy to receive his addresses. He feared that his jaw might have dropped at first, so unexpected had her words been. Her second daughter? He could not even recall at that precise moment exactly which of the two sisters that was not Frances was the elder.
But what could he do or say? He had bowed and said all that was appropriate to the occasion. And Lady Astor had released him, assuring him that she understood that he would wish to acquaint himself better with Arabella and settle the matter with her before discussing details of the nuptials.
He had bowed and asked where he might find Miss Arabella.
She had told him that the girl was probably outside where she usually was. She was possibly with her dog in the vicinity of the stables.
