She would not give him the satisfaction of breaking down in front of him and crying. She had no idea why, but she wanted him out as soon as possible.
“Then don’t go to London,” he said with an enigmatic smile.
Arabella fought the urge to hurl something in his stupid face. It might have been more prudent if she had acted upon those instincts. Maybe her fate would have been avoided if she had just thrown one of the six cups of ice cream that she had eaten the first time they went out together. Then she wouldn’t be standing here, ready to cry, while he was smiling smugly at her in a joke that she didn’t get.
“Are you running some kind of coach services, Your Grace, and you have alternative options to offer me?”
“No, but I do have property in Brighton,” he pointed at the paper she was holding.
Arabella lost some of her composure and just pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes as if she had to deal with a toddler.
“I do have a long way to go, Your Grace, and I do not appreciate conversations that go round and round without making any sense, so if you would like to make a point, I would gladly hear it,” Arabella said with her saccharine fake smile. “Just make it quick and precise.”
Gerald straightened his back, too, and took one step closer. He probably did that on purpose because now she would have to crane her neck in order to look into his eyes, and she had no intention of backing down.
“What I am proposing, Your Grace,” he said softly, “is that we visit our estate in Brighton.”
She studied his face, trying to find if he had gone completely mad or was just toying with her. Both options were quite inconvenient for her.
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace?” she said, for lack of a better answer.
“I have a property in Brighton. The season is over.”
“The sun comes up from the east and sets in the west,” Arabella offered.
“Excuse me?”
“I thought we were just stating irrelevant facts,” Arabella said, annoyed. “I thought I might contribute so we could end this conversation as soon as possible.”
“But this is not irrelevant, Arabella. You want to take a trip, I am offering an alternative scenario.”
She stared at him blankly. He shifted uneasily. Arabella was nervous too. The Duke was never uneasy.
“Is something the matter?” Arabella asked. “Have you had any troubles with your family?”
She was genuinely concerned. Last time they spoke, she had just showered his half-brother with soup. The same half-brother who was trying to frame him in a scandal. Seeing her genuine concern, Gerald drew even closer.
“Do you want to go to Brighton with me?”
CHAPTER 29
Sunny Confessions
Gerald didn’t know what he was expecting when he asked Arabella to join him in Brighton, but he knew that he was not expecting this blank stare. He was really doing everything wrong, and the only thing that he was supposed to do right in his life.
Why is it so difficult to explain exactly how he feels? Why is he torn between the desire to speak and the fear of rejection, the guilt that he has treated her coldly before? But here he was, and he was ready to risk everything.
He looks at her again. He was painfully aware she had always been beautiful, but seeing her away from society, under this spring sun, a little bit tired, a lot more confused, Gerald had never seen a more beautiful woman in his whole life. And if he didn’t do something about it, she was going to ride off to Wales, not knowing exactly how he felt about her.
“So what do you say, Arabella?” he presses for an answer. “Do you want to go to Brighton with me?”
Arabella gaped a few times, as if she was trying some answers in her head, but none of them were right. So saying ‘yes’ was not an easy option for her.
“Pardon me, Your Grace, but-” Arabella started.
“I think it’s perfectly suitable to call me Gerald,” he said, hating the distance that she put between them.
“On the contrary, Your Grace,” she insisted, “I believe now it’s the least suitable for me to call you that.”
