“What is the meaning of this? Have we hit something?” Bridget said and looked out the window.
Arabella was ready to do the same thing when she heard voices outside, men shouting at each other. Her heart started racing, and her breath caught. She knew that the roads were clear and safe, but you never truly knew what bandits might plague them. She only had the driver with them, and she just realized that maybe she had taken too much of a risk on this trip.
The voices grew louder, and a demanding voice was heard, overlapping with the thundering tone of her driver. She still couldn’t tell what they were arguing about.
“Are these bandits?” Winnie panicked. “Are we going to be dragged away into their lair? You must run, Your Grace. I will do anything I can to distract them.”
Arabella was ready to calm her maid down when she heard one loud, clear voice, gruff and gravelly. Instantly, her heart skipped a beat, and her hands grew cold.
No, that couldn’t be. She was imagining things for sure. She had been in her head for too long for this whole trip, and now she was…
“Arabella!”
She stood absolutely still, while her sister and her maid looked at her with dread. And that was because they didn’t know that voice. She did. She had heard that voice in her ear, calling her name.
Gerald.
And yet she still couldn’t believe it. She was overcome with pure shock. But now she knew she was not imagining things.
“Arabella,” he called out again.
And now she was fighting with herself. The first thing that came into her mind was hope. Maybe he was here to stop her from going, or he wanted to tell her he missed her. But fear was a stronger opponent. It moved decisively inside her, taking over all ground. She could not give in to stupid ideas.
He was probably here because she was not allowed to go. It would look bad on him for his wife to abandon him and leavefor Wales. Or there could be another occasion he would like to employ her, where she needed to play the devoted wife with her impeccable acting skills.
She placed a hand on the handle of the door. Bridget held her back, looking at her imploringly in the eyes.
“Everything is fine, Bridget,” she said with conviction. “It’s just Gerald.”
Her sister looked at Winnie just to make sure she had heard right, and then back to Arabella.
“Gerald? The Duke? Your husband is here?”
“I believe I recognize my husband’s voice,” Arabella said flatly.
“Do you have any idea why he might be stopping the carriage?” Bridget perked up.
“It is precisely the reason I am getting ready to get out and ask.”
“I see,” Bridget smiled.
“Why are you smiling? He’s probably here to drag me back to London because it doesn’t look good on him.”
“Or…” Bridget’s smile became even brighter.
Hope was a fickle mistress. Bridget didn’t get her own happy ending with a man that she had loved, and now she was trying to see other people have theirs. But how could Arabella explain to her that, more often than not, that was not the case?
Without saying anything else, Arabella opened the door and got out of the carriage.
“There you are!” Gerald appeared from the front of the carriage.
Arabella studied her husband. It had been mere days since she last saw him, and yet there was a great change in him. The one thing that was constant in how Gerald looked was that he had an impeccably composed appearance.
His clothes were never extravagant, but always sharp, expensive, well-pressed, and well put together. He never cared much about his appearance, but he made sure he was shaved and clean.
But the man who appeared before her, standing just a few feet away, was completely disheveled. His hair looked as if he had run his fingers through it again and again. He hadn’t bothered to shave today. The clothes on his body were randomly thrown on, his cravat was all wrong, his waistcoat open.
He looked at her from the top of her head down to her toes. His look was urgent, as if he were searching for injuries, anxious and serious. And when he found her in perfect health, he let out a sigh of relief and took one step closer.
