He could not have imagined Arabella behaving with quite such cold dignity. His mind touched back to the scene in his office that morning, and he found himself spurring his horse on again. He had never in his life felt such helpless guilt. That was what he was running from, doubtless. And that was what he had been hoping to have pounded out of him at Jackson’s. Pointless efforts! He carried his guilt deep within, inescapable and inaccessible from without.
He would not have hurt Arabella for worlds. He had grown fond of her fresh innocence. He had taken her at a very young age from her own home and had undertaken to protect her with his name and his person. He felt a great responsibility for her. But he had hurt her quite dreadfully. She had looked wretchedly ill. Obviously some fiend had told her the night before about Ginny’s connection to him, and she had been tortured all night by the knowledge.
But there had been more than suffering in her face that morning. If that had been all, he might have coped. He might have taken her in his arms and soothed her and promised her the earth as a recompense for having hurt her. But she had been quite untouchable, cold and controlled. Something had been killed in her overnight. The remnants of her childhood, perhaps. Her faith in him. Perhaps her faith in humanity.
Her great innocence was proving to be her worst enemy, of course. If she just had a little more worldly wisdom, she would realize that it was common practice for a gentleman to keep a mistress. There was no implied insult to one’s wife in doing so. He was not less respectful of Arabella, less fond of her because he kept Ginny. But Arabella did not know that. She expected the marriage service to be taken literally. She felt slighted, rejected. This would be one more blow to her very fragile self-confidence.
And he was responsible. Lord Astor pulled his horse to the side of the road in order to allow a fast-approaching vehicle to overtake him. A mail coach went rattling past. It was time to turn back to London, he decided, for his horse’s sake if not for his own.
And what was he to do about the matter? he thought. Give up Ginny and beg Arabella’s pardon? Was he prepared to allow his wife such power over his life? Was he going to allow himself to feel that he had committed some heinous crime? What had he done that was so very wrong, when all was said and done?
By the time he was in sight of London again, Lord Astor was feeling somewhat angry with himself for having allowed his wife to upset him so. Sooner or later she had to learn some of the harsher realities of life. Eventually she had to grow up. He could wish that she had not found out about Ginny. But the truth was that she had, although it was not his fault that she had done so. She must just learn to live with reality. Other wives did, yet appeared to have quite contented marriages.
He must speak to Arabella, he decided, without either harshness or apology, and explain to her what their marriage was to be like. There was no reason why they should not develop a friendship and an affection for each other. There was no reason why they should not have a satisfactory marriage. And there was certainly no reason for him to give up Ginny.
Arabella had admired him to such a degree that she had been nervous with him.
She had liked him.
She had trusted him.
She had been proud of him.
She did not wish to see him or speak with him. She did not wish him to touch her.
Damnation! Why had he had to be burdened with such a child for a bride?
She had looked haggard and gaunt that morning.
How would he be able to face her with the proper firmness of manner, without allowing her appearance to act as a reproach to him again?
How would he be able to assume a normal relationship with her? Had there been anything normal about their relationship anyway?
How would he be able to make love to her again at the end of the week, knowing that his touch outraged and repulsed her?
Damnation!
Lord Astor dined at White’s again that evening and accepted an invitation to move on to Brooks’ later to play cards. By some miracle he won what a mere year before would have seemed a small fortune to him. Yet he would as soon have lost and been able to feel that his fortunes matched his mood. He drank to the point at which he had hoped to be roaring and blissfully drunk. Instead, his head was as clear and his mood ten times blacker than they had been when he had arrived hours earlier. He considered going to Ginny’s but could feel no stirring of desire for her whatsoever. He slept somewhat less than he had the night before. He wondered if Arabella was awake and miserable.
Arabella dined at home with Frances, and the two of them joined Lady Berry at the opera in the evening, where Arabella sparkled with good humor and during the interval entertained both Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Hubbard with her bright chatter. In the middle of the first act she quietly removed her pearls when she realized she was wearing them, and dropped them into her reticule. She slept almost as soon as she lay down, being both physically and emotionally exhausted.
Chapter 12
LORD Astor rose to his feet in some surprise when his wife entered the breakfast room the following morning. One glance at her face told him that her mood was as cold and set as it had been the previous day. She looked pale and surely thinner than she had when he first knew her.
“Did you miss your walk with George this morning, Arabella?” he asked. “The weather does look rather gray.”
“It is chilly,” she said, “but quite bracing. George had a good run. I took a maid with me, my lord. I was the height of respectability.”
She came from the sideboard with the usual muffin and nodded to the butler to pour her coffee. Lord Astor looked at her, not knowing what he should say or whether he should say anything at all.
“Do not let me keep you from your paper,” she said, cutting into her muffin.
He did not immediately resume his reading. “Did you enjoy the opera?” he asked.
“Yes, I thank you, my lord,” she said.
“And do you have plans for today?” he asked.
