Chapter Five
Arabella finished her tea, savoring the minty flavor, while she went over the accounts again and felt her stomach sink. Thinks were not looking good, between what Liza made from honey and sachets, and the pittance she made as a midwife they were barely scraping by. They needed a miracle or they would have to start missing meals soon.
Arabella had already cut meat from their meals four days a week; luckily, Liza and her children didn’t complain, as they at least had food, but for how long? How long could they go on this way? The vegetable garden, the beehives, and Betsy, their cow, provided them with vegetables, honey, wax, and milk. But Betsy was getting old, and once winter came, there would be no more fresh vegetables. The one bright spot was that her net across the forest stream had provided them with three brown trout that morning, which would make a fine evening meal for the four of them.
“Is it that bad?” Liza asked, taking a seat next to her at the kitchen table. Something on Arabella’s face must have given away her worry.
“I’m afraid it is, the roof will need patching before the winter, and those two upper windows need new glass or the rain and snow shall get in. The drains need work or we shall be forced to use the old out house. And we all need new boots before the fall, and the children need new clothing. And we shall be out of flour in a week.” Arabella shook her head sadly, then closed the ledger book and pushed it away. When Sir Howard had been alive he and Mrs. Jenkins, his cook, would send her home three days a week with a basket of food as well as either a ham or a smoked turkey every Sunday. But now that he was gone the land manager Mr. Simmons had forbid Mrs. Jenkins helping her and banned Arabella from entering the manor. He’d often butted heads with Arabella over the years over the accounts, as Arabella had often found discrepancies in his math. Mr. Simmons had loudly told Sir Howard that a woman knew nothing about farm management or math, even though Arabella was always right.
Arabella missed Sir Howard sourly; he had been more than a friend and mentor, he had been a father to her. He had taken a frightened, orphaned young girl into his home and his heart despite his own losses. Arabella saw that Liza was fidgeting beside her; it was how Liza acted when she was holding something back.
“What is wrong, you’re fidgeting? Did something happen yesterday in the village?” Arabella asked. Usually, Arabella would walk the two miles to the village once a week to sell their honey, extra wax, and sachets to the grocery Mr. Hubble, but Arabella had been called away to deliver a baby, forcing Liza and the children to go into the village.
“Mr. Lester approached me as I was entering the grocery shop; he wanted to know where you were. When I told him you were with a patient, he began asking other questions about you, about us. When I tried to leave, he told me that it would be in our best interest if you wed him, that I should convince you to accept his suit. That two young women living alone were not safe. That something bad could happen to either of us, or both of us.” Liza began fidgeting again.
“Good heavens, I’m sorry, Liza, how terrible. What else did he say?” Arabella asked, laying her left hand over both of Liza’s work warn ones. “He suggested that as I was a widow, I didn’t need to remain chaste and that if I were friendly to him, he would help us with our debts. He began to touch my arm in a possessive manner. Luckily, Mr. Hubble saw that I was in distress and came out of the shop to escort me in.”
Arabella shivered despite the warmth of the kitchen, Mortimer Lester, was a short, thin oily man with grabbing hands that was a distant relative of the late Sir Howard’s wife. Mr. Lester since before Mr. Howard had passed away, had been pressing Arabella to wed him, not because he admired her but because he believed that Sir. Howard had left her Avondale as well as sizeable cash amount.
“I am sorry Liza; you should not have had to go through that every time you go into the village. Mr. Lester will not take no for an answer he insists I wed him, from now on we shall walk into the village together.” Arabella said and Liza nodded.
“Well, hopefully Sir Howards’ nephew will arrive soon and he will be friendly. Once he arrives Sir Howard’s will can be read. I know Sir Howard left you something, he was so fond of you, and you him.” Liza said giving Arabella’s hand a squeeze.
“We can’t count on that, we shall have to think of some other way to survive this winter.” Arabella replied, easing her hands from Liza’s.
“If things get very bad I can always go home to him.” Liza said softly, looking down at the table.
“No you can’t even think that way, not after the way the marquis hurt you and little Brian. No you can’t even think that way. We shall find a way out of this. You shall see, mother always said that as long as you have faith the lord will provide. Just have faith things will work out.” Arabella replied. She had to remain positive for Liza and the children’s sake.
Arabella would never let Liza return to her abusive and tyrannical husband. Since the cold, rainy night Farmer Jenkins had brought a wet, badly beaten Liza and her children to her door, Arabella had vowed to protect them. Liza’s husband had married her at just seventeen for her large dowry, and after Liza had borne him little Brian, he had begun to beat her. Liza had survived five years of torture and brutality before she’d grabbed her two young children and fled into the night with the clothes on her back and the few items of children’s clothing she’d managed to carry away in a flour sack.
Liza was now Arabella’s dearest friend in the world, and she’d do whatever it took to protect Liza and her children.
“Something will work out. Now I’m going to weed the herbs.” Arabella gave Liza a forced smile, saw Liza smile, then rose from the table. She grabbed her worn apron, straw hat, and gloves from the table by the back door and stepped out into the late morning sun.
* * * *
Tristan looked out the carriage window as it rolled to a stop before a large, two story white washed cottage with a slate roof and dark green shutters and front door. A waist high stone fence with a rickety white gate separated the cottage and its large yard from the narrow country lane.
“Were her Sir,” Jeremy called from above, and a moment latter the carriage door was opened by Jeremy.
“How do I look?” Tristan asked, looking over at Marcus who’d been lounging in the facing seat.
“Good, the haircut and shave helped. How are the boots?” Marcus asked sitting up and straightening his jacket.
“A bit stiff,” Tristan replied. Marcus had discovered that his brother Allister had not only wide shoulders, and a thick waist but large feet. And over a dozen pair of brand new boots in one of his closets, the boots had fit not only Tristan but Marcus. Tristan hadn’t wanted to take a pair of boots, but Marcus had pointed out that they were all new and unused and that Tristan was too poor to be picky. And his army boots were rather worn and sad in appearance. As there hadn’t been time to alter his brother’s jackets Tristan and Marcus were wearing their army uniform jackets, which Buttons had kindly brushed out for them. All in all they looked very respectable despite two days of travel.
Tristan was moving towards the door of the carriage when a young woman appeared at the garden gate.
“Bloody hell, if that is Miss Layden, you are a lucky bastard,” Marcus commented as he nodded towards the young woman.
Tristan studied the woman, while he silently agreed, Marcus was right, the young woman was absolutely stunning. She had dark red hair, a trim figure, and a face like a forest nymph. Tristan stepped down from the carriage, then paused to tug down his jacket before moving away from the carriage so Marcus could step down.
Tristan took a deep breath to calm the butterflies in his stomach. The next few minutes would dictate how the rest of his life went; he could only pray he said the right thing and the lady was receptive. If not he and the others might all end up homeless.
* * * *
Arabella heard a carriage approach as she was weeding her large patch of lavender, then slow and stop. She pulled off her worn linen gardening gloves and rose, wondering who could have come to call. The carriage was large, black, and expensive by the look, and from the mud splattering, it the carriage had traveled far. The carriage was definitely a town carriage, but no one would be visiting her from London, other than perhaps Sir Howard’s heir. The lawyer had said that the gentleman was serving in the army and that he’d been sent a message about Sir Howard’s passing and asked to return to claim the Earldom.
Arabella stepped up to the gate as a tall, dark-haired man in a red officer’s jacket and shiny black boots stepped from the carriage. The man had dark, wavy hair that came to his collar and wide, muscular shoulders that filled out his jacket, showing he was used to hard work. Arabella’s heart skipped a beat as he locked eyes with her. He was beyond handsome; in fact, he was probably the best-looking man she had ever laid eyes, on and he was approaching her gate. Behind the dark-haired man was a taller, muscular blond-haired man that Arabella barely noticed. The dark haired man had the face of a Greek god, with high cheekbones and a long thin, nose that, judging by the small bump in it had been broken at least once. The break didn’t distract from his, looks only added to them, as otherwise he would have been too handsome.
“Excuse me are you Miss Layden” The man’s voice was rich, low rumble that sent a shiver of delight through her. As she studied his handsome face something about him looked familiar, it was his bright blue eyes that held her attention. His eyes were the same color as Sir Howard’s, and Arabella realized where she’d seen his face. Sir Howard had a watercolor of his beloved nephew on his desk, this man was the face in the watercolor. He had to be the missing nephew.
“Yes I am. Are you Sir Tristan Sizemore by any chance?” Arabella asked, as the man moved closer.
“Yes, I am. How did you know?” Tristan asked with a smile.
“Your eyes, they are the same color as Sir Howard’s, and he had a watercolor of you on his desk. The solicitor said you might come, and I had prayed you would.” Arabella replied, and then regretted saying the last part.
“Ah, yes. I came as soon as I could. I had to be released from duty before I could return.” Tristan was having a hard time thinking much less speaking. Up close, Miss Layden was breathtaking; she had eyes the color of emeralds and the prettiest pink mouth he had ever seen. A spattering of freckles dusted her high cheekbones and her pert little nose. They didn’t detract from her features, only added to them making her face more interesting.
“Of course I understand.” Arabella replied. “I wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss my lord. To lose your father, brothers and uncle in so short a time.” Arabella knew what it was like to lose family, but not so many at once.
“Thank you for your words, but in truth, I was not that close to my father and brothers. The only ones I miss are my uncle and aunt; they were the only ones who ever cared for me. My uncle in particular I miss,” Tristan replied. “I would like to offer you my sympathy as well. Mr. Solomon, my uncle’s solicitor, said how much you helped my uncle and how fond he was of you.”
“You are very kind, he was a dear man, and these past years I thought of him like a father,” Arabella replied, choking back the tears that threatened. “Have you come to see where he was laid to rest?”
“In part, yes. When I spoke with Mr. Solomon upon my return a few days ago, he gave me a letter for you from my uncle. You are also mentioned in my uncle’s will. Is there someplace we can speak in private?” Tristan asked.
“Oh yes, forgive me, I have forgotten my manners. Please come in, my lord, would you and your friend like some tea?” Arabella said, stepping back to open the gate. As she swung the gate inwards, it squeaked loudly, and Arabella tried not to cringe, yet another thing that needed to be repaired.
“It would seem I forgot mine as well. This is my friend and assistant Sergeant Marcus Berkley, now retired.” Tristan said, turning to motion Marcus forward.
“A pleasure, Ma’am,” Marcus said with a polite nod and a ready smile.
“Arabella is everything all right?” A woman’s voice rang out and Tristan looked to the front of the cottage to see a tall, thin blond woman in her early twenties in the door. The woman was striking with light blond hair and sky blue eyes. Holding onto her dark skirt were a young boy and a girl of her perhaps three.
“Yes, Liza everything is fine, “Arabella turned to give Liza a reassuring smile. “This is Sir Howard’s nephew, Sir Tristan and his friend Mr. Marcus Berkley.”
“A pleasure ma’am,” Tristan said with a nod and a smile.
“Ma’am,” Marcus also gave Liza a polite nod.
“Gentlemen this is my friend, Mrs. Elizabeth Riley, and her children, Brian and Megan.” Arabella said, turning to motion to her friend.
“It’s a pleasure gentleman,” Eliza said, eyeing Tristan and Marcus wearily. “I’ll go put on some tea,”
“No, it’s all right, but if I could speak to you it is very important, Miss Layden,” Tristan stated.
“Yes, please come in,” Arabella stepped back from the gate and motioned for the men to step through.
“Thank you mam for the offer but I must go on to Avondale and let them know Tristan is coming,” Marcus said with a smile.
“Oh, of course. The butler is Mr. Fredrick Jenkins and his wife is the house keeper and cook. Tell them that you stopped here first, they know me and mentioning me will help them believe you. They are rather cautious people you see.” Arabella said.
“Thank you for the suggestion Miss, I shall. Tristan I’ll see you in an hour or so? Do you want me to send the carriage back?” Marcus asked.
“No, I shall walk it’s only about a mile from here I believe,” Tristan replied, after his long ride in the cramped carriage a walk would be pleasant.
“Right, I’ll see you in a bit then.” Marcus gave Arabella another nod then turned back to the carriage and climbed inside, slamming the door shut behind him. A moment later it rattled away, leaving Tristan standing in the open gate.
“You will forgive my appearance, I wasn’t expecting guests,” Arabella said, as Tristan stepped closer to loom over her. Arabella was shorter than most women and was used to people being taller than her, but Sir Tristan towered over her. His shoulders were also as wide as the garden gate; the burly farmers she dealt with every day were small compared to Sir Tristan.
Tristan noted Arabella flush in embarrassment and found it endearing.
“No, you look fine Miss, and your garden is charming,” Tristan replied following as he followed Arabella down the flagstone path. “After so many years away in India it is delightful to see such a lovely garden and such a lovely woman.”
Arabella, gave him a smile of thanks as she precede him into the cool darkness of the cottage, she stepped back waiting for him to enter then motioned to the open door of the front parlor.
Tristan followed Arabella into the cool house, noting a faded dark blue carpet running down the middle of the wide carpet that split the tiny house. He saw Arabella indicate an open door on her right that led to what was obviously the parlor. The furniture was of good quality but old and worn, but the wood gleamed with polish, and there was not a speck of dust anywhere.
“Please have a seat, my lord,” Arabella motioned for Tristan to take one of the large, well-padded wooden chairs that faced a faded blue settee. Tristan took the closest chair with a nod, the chair creaked a little as he settled into it, making him wince. The chair wasn’t meant for a man of his size, he guessed.
“Sir Tristan is fine or just Tristan, I was a simple army Captain only a few weeks ago,” Tristan replied as first Arabella and then Liza took seats upon the settee.
“Miss Arabella first I would like to give you this, Mr. Solomon gave it to me to give to you. It is a letter from uncle Howard for you, second is a copy of the will for you to read,” Tristan had practiced what to say on the long ride to Rose Cottage, but now that he was sitting in her parlor all his plans fled. He pulled the letter and the copy of the will from his inner pocket. “I ask that you let me explain before you open them.”
“Of course,” Arabella replied, both curious and a bit confused as sir Tristan leaned forward to hold two wax sealed envelopes out to her. Arabella took the envelopes with a frown of confusion and placed them on her lap.
“I would first like to thank you again for taking care of my uncle; if I’d known how ill he was I would have tried to have returner sooner. Perhaps tomorrow if you are free you could show me where he was laid to rest,” Tristan said.
“It was a pleasure to help him. If not for him I shudder to think what would have happened to me when my mother died. In truth I thought of him like a father these past years. He was so good to me and insisted on paying for my education,” Arabella felt tears threaten and had to blink her eyes to clear them.
“I felt the same; my father, well, he and my mother had no use for me and sent me away to boarding school when I was six. Uncle Howard would come to visit me and write to me weekly, and during the summers, he would bring me home with him to Avondale. My finest childhood memories were running through the forest and splashing in the stream with Anthony and Noah.” Tristan said as he remembered his lost cousins fondly.
“Your parents sound beastly, my lord,” Eliza commented, earning a nod of agreement from Arabella.
“Yes, well, I was called the unwanted spare by my family, but I’m getting off the point. What I’m about to say, well, it came as a shock to me when I first heard it, only four, no five days ago.” Tristan said.
“You have only been in England for five days?” Arabella asked in surprise. She’d thought that Sir Tristan had been in England some time and had simply avoided coming to see her, but the truth was startling. Whatever was in the will and the letter must be rather important to have sent him to her door so quickly.
“Yes, I was on duty in Malta when I received the news of my uncle’s death. With the notice came a letter from the Home Office telling my commander that I had to be released from duty as I was now the sole heir to an earldom. My commander was a friend, and after receiving the letter from Mr. Solomon and the Home Office, he released me from duty. Well, I had to pau to be released, but that hardly matters, I was also able to convince my commander to release Marcus from his term of service early. He had been in command of my battalion till he was injured twice in skirmishes, and then he became my batman while he recovered. But I decrease.” Tristan paused to clear his throat.
“Liza, could you please bring Sir Tristan a glass of water, since he does not wish tea?” Arabella asked, she saw Liza hesitate for a moment. “I shall be fine, I’m in no danger.”
“Yes, of course, and I should check on the children. I’ll be but a moment.” Liza said, rising smoothly, then walked quickly from the parlor.
“Where was I, oh yes, Marcus and I stepped off our ship and went straight to Mr. Solomon’s office. He relayed to me that, well, I’m afraid I must be brutally honest, my father and brothers had bankrupted the estate and left it penniless.” Tristan paused as Mrs. Riley stepped into the parlor with a glass of water and a napkin. She set the glass down on the napkin and resumed her seat beside Arabella.
“Thank you,” Tristan said, reaching for the glass and taking a sip of cool water.
“Good heavens, how awful, but how?” Arabella asked.
“It is not a pretty tale, and as you shall soon read, thanks to my uncle, we are about to become, well, rather close. I shall tell you the truth, no matter how unpleasant. And I ask your forgiveness ahead of time for being so frank with you, as we are still strangers.” Tristan said and saw Arabella exchange a look with Mrs. Riley before nodding.
“My father and brothers, simply put, were lazy and not good men. They thought more of their own pleasure than taking care of our estate, Rawlings, or working. My father died, from a heart attack while in the home of his, how should I put this politely, his light-oh-love. My elder brother, Allister, once he inherited the title and the purse strings, seems to have gone on a drunken spending spree. He died because he was riding drunk through the park early in the morning.” Tristan paused to take another sip of water.
“If I might ask my lord, why did you not return earlier? Surely you had duties here?” Mrs. Riley asked giving Tristan a hard look.
Arabella turned to give Liza a reproachful look; it was not there place to question Lord Tristan’s motives. Liza because of her husband’s unsavory actions distrusted all men, especially noble men. Liza thought all men were lazy brutes like her husband.
Tristan had been prepared for such a question, he took another sip of water and forced a smile.
“My mother sent a brief note a month after my father had passed. It said simply your father is dead, and you were not missed at the funeral,” Tristan replied, and saw Mrs. Riley’s eyes widen in surprise. “My brother Allister was Earl for all of six months; in that time, he ran up massive debts and then managed to kill himself in a feat of drunken stupidity.”
“Oh my,” Mrs. Riley murmured.
“I was not invited to my brother Allister’s funeral. I had seen my brother perhaps ten times in my life, as he could never be bothered to meet me.” Tristan shrugged, “After he passed, Richard sent me a brief note saying Allister was dead, and that he was now the earl, and not to bother coming home as I was not wanted.”
Liza let out a small gasp of surprise, then looked down at her lap. Beside her, Arabella shook her head in disbelief. “I am sorry, my lord, I should not have pried,” Liza said.
“No, no, it is fine. I told Miss Layden that I would be truthful with her, and you asked a fair question. While we have just met, Miss Layden will soon discover that my uncle’s will has thrust us together.” Tristan replied. “Richard was earl for only three months before he too died from his own drunken stupidity. The solicitor, Mr. Solomon, sent me a letter saying my brother had passed and I was the new Earl. But I had just been promoted to captain, and in addition, my friend Marcus had been badly injured, and I was nursing him. I could not leave him behind; the army surgeons are little more than butchers. I sent word to Mr. Solomon to give the title to my uncle till the term of my service was over, at which time I’d return to claim the title. In truth, I thought my uncle would make a much better earl than I ever would, and that after having to up with his brother mistakes for years, he deserved the title more than I.” Tristan sighed and dragged his right hand through his hair. “If I had known my uncle was so ill, I would have tried to return sooner. In his letters, he never spoke of being sick. He only mentioned how the crops were, the local gossip, and the young daughter of his friend, that he was taking care of, and who was helping him run the estate. He never even mentioned your name, Miss Layden; I can only think he did it to protect your reputation should someone else read our correspondence.”
“I understand Sir Tristan; you had your duty and your friend to care for. My older brothers are both officers in the navy, and when my mother passed and I was orphaned neither of them could or would return home.” Arabella said. Her heart went out to Sir Tristan; she could see the anguish on his tanned face. “And your devotion to your friend is admirable. You have repeatedly said that something in your uncle’s will has thrown us together, I am beyond curious now.”
“Yes, I am coming to that. Mr. Solomon told me that my father and brothers had run up significant debts, well over thirty thousand pounds worth. That while I was now Earl, I was penniless, deeply in debt, and in danger of losing not only the London town house, the house in Bath, but Avondale. My father had sold off all the unentailed property for our country estate, Rawlings, as well as all the furniture in Rawlings manor house.” Tristan saw Miss Layden’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Not Avondale,” Arabella murmured in alarm. Arabella loved Avondale, it was her second home and all the people there her family.
“The news was a shock to me as well. While I do not care about the house in Bath, for I’ve never even seen it, I do not wish to loose Avondale or the London House.” Tristan shook his head. “The only fond memories I have from my childhood were my summers at Avondale, and I know how much Uncle Howard loved it. As for the London townhouse my mother and older sister Penelope are currently living there. I too do not wish to be homeless. Will I have saved enough of my pay over the years to afford comfortable rooms for Marcus and I if need arrive, I’d prefer to live in the family home and use my savings to improve Avondale.”
“I see you indeed have a terrible problem Sir Tristan but how does your uncle’s will involve me? And surely Sir Howard left you his fortune?” Arabella asked in confusion.
“You have asked the right question Miss Layden. My uncle thought highly of you, very highly. The morning I was leaving to come here I received a letter from him, forwarded to me by the War Office. In the letter he speaks of you by name, says that he wished for me to return home soon as he was ill. Uncle said that he wanted me to meet you in the hopes that I would find you as lovely as he did and ask you to marry him. He said that you would need protection and I would need someone to care for me.” Tristan heard Miss Layden’s gasp of surprise. “You should read the will and my uncle’s letter now; in it you shall discover that in order to inherit uncle’s fortune, I must marry you.”
“What?” Arabella gasped in shock. “Surely this is some form of jest?”
“I am afraid not. My family has run up over thirty thousand pounds of debt while I was in the army. The only way to settle the debt, save Avondale, and keep us all out of the poor house is to inherit Uncle Howard’s fortune. But the only way to inherit the funds is to marry you, so here I am.” Tristan raked his hand through his hair again, “The request is unfair to both of us, but before I say more, read the will and the letter.”
Arabella was not sure what to think or say. But she could see the honesty and distress on Sir Tristan’s handsome face. The fact that he was still wearing his uniform jacket gave credence to his story that he was newly returned to England and surprised by what he’d discovered. Arabella also remembered Sir Howard speaking of his older brother and two older nephews in less than glowing terms.
With a combination of fear and curiosity Arabella pulled several sheets of heavy paper from an envelope that bore Mr. Solomon’s mark. Unfolding the papers she quickly began to read, holding them to the side so Liza could read them as well. When Arabella reached the passage where she was mentioned she let out a gasp. Sir Tristan had spoken the truth. In addition to him having access to his Uncle’s funds she would receive the heady sum of two thousand pounds a year as his bride. Arabella was used to pinching pennies, and making do, to have so much money available to her every year was a heady thought. She could afford to repair Rose Cottage and so much more.
Arabella handed the will to Liza to read on her own while she examined the other papers included with it. The other papers were a list of outstanding debts against the earldom. Sir Tristan had spoken the truth; he was facing a staggering amount of debt. She carefully folded the sheets of paper and slipped them back into the envelope. Arabella then lifted the envelope addressed to her; she easily recognized Sir Howard’s elegant script and, with a heavy heart, opened the envelope. Arabella took a deep breath and slowly began to read the letter.
After a few minutes Arabella looked up at Sir Tristan, who was sitting quietly in his chair, looking a bit nervous.
“Sir Howard’s letter is rather like his letter to you. He says that he loves me and thinks of me as a daughter, and thanks me for all I have done for him. He also says that he always saw me as the future lady of Avondale. That he and my mother had wanted me to marry Anthony, to unite our families. He goes on to say that he also thought of you as a son, and that he thinks we would do well together. He says that he hopes we will wed as we would be good together.”
“Is there more?” Tristan prompted.
“He asks me to forgive him for putting me, for putting us, in this awkward position. He also says you are a good man and that you need someone to love you and care for you. And he thinks that I would be up to the task.” Arabella’s voice broke as her emotions welled up. Arabella looked down at her lap as she tried to compose herself, and heard a floorboard creak and saw Sir Tristan rise and pull a handkerchief from his pocket. He bent to hold it out to her.
Arabella took it with a nod of thanks. She blotted her tears as Sir Tristan resumed his seat. Beside her, Liza finished reading the will and, folding it, put it back in the envelope, then extended it to Sir Tristan. Sir Tristan rose again to retrieve the will before resuming his seat.
“Now that you know everything, I will say my piece. While I would be honored to court you, Miss Layden, I’m sure you already have several suitors who would be enraged to have me court you and steal you away.” Tristan paused as he weighed his words. “You are a beautiful young woman who can do better than a sunbaked, weary ex-army officer. It would also be rather mercenary of me to ask you to marry me when we do not know each other, and for the sole reason to save myself.”
“But don’t you need the inheritance to settle the debts?” Liza demanded.
“I do, but I would not force Miss Layden into an unwanted alliance merely to save my home or Avondale. This mess was not her doing, and she should not be made to sacrifice her future or her happiness to help me fix it,” Tristan replied. After meeting Arabella, he could not pressure her into an unwanted marriage just to save himself.
“But what of Avondale?” Arabella protested; she could not imagine it going to a stranger.
“On my ride here, I ran through all the options open to me. Though I would be loath to do it, I can sell the London townhouse and all its contents. My mother can live with one of my sisters, and my sister Penelope can return to her own home. It will be difficult for her, but she has her own home.” Tristan paused. “I was thinking I could perhaps sell off the furniture and some of the livestock from Avondale. Make partial payments to the creditors to hold them off while I seek some form of employment. My only other option is to throw myself on your mercy and ask you to consider letting me court you.”
Arabella had felt her heart skip a beat when Sir Tristan had said she was beautiful. She’d never had a suitor before, never been courted before. The local farmers thought her a member of the nobility, as her father had been the grandson of a baron and too grand for them. While the sons of the local baron thought her below them as the daughter of a mere naval officer, and rarely even spoke to her.”
“I would happily consent to letting you court me, Sir Tristan. How long do you have before you need funds? I mean how long would the courtship be for?” Arabella replied, thinking it would be wonderful to be courted by such a handsome man.
Tristan could hardly believe that Arabella would agree to let him court her. “I would like to say a month, but that is unrealistic. When I left London I had to instruct my butler, Buttons, to sell off my older brother’s bedroom furniture as well as the furniture from one of the guest rooms and the music room. He is to use the money in case any of the creditors stop by. The day after I arrived in London, with Marcus help, I sold off all my father’s clothing and bedroom furniture to pay off the green grocer’s, the butcher, and the baker as well as some of the most pressing debts. I’m thinking ten days before I must return to London to be sure that creditors are not beating down the doors.”
“Ten days,” Arabella nodded it was not a long time to court but she understood.
“I would like to say that I understand that you are doing me a great favor. I am also not like my father; if we marry, I would honor my marriage vows and never betray you. I will also never raise a hand to you. And I will do all in my power to be a good husband.” Tristan saw Arabella nod. “In addition, I will sign an agreement that Rose Cottage will remain yours to do with as you wish. I would not wish to take it from you. I would also sign a document saying that the money left to you by Uncle Howard will remain yours. I would also insist that you take over as land manager for Avondale. And I would have you write up an agreement for me to sign. An agreement about what you expect in this marriage and what you would require from me. I would honor this agreement if we wed.”
Arabella was not sure she had heard correctly. “I’m not sure I understand an agreement?”
“Yes, a bride agreement if you will. In it, you will state what you would want in our marriage, how you would like to be treated, and what you would find distasteful. Such as eating garlic every day or refusing to bathe daily.” Tristan replied.
“That is most unusual; you would let Arabella have control of her property and her own funds?” Liza asked, giving Tristan a suspicious look.
“I would, I would have us be partners in this relationship, and hopefully friends, and in time come to care for each other. I would also not insist upon my husbandly privileges until you are ready. I am not a monster; if this is agreeable to you then I shall ask you to allow me to begin courting you tomorrow.” Tristan said giving Arabella his best smile.
“I do not like garlic, “Arabella said to break the awkward silence. “And yes you can court me, and I will begin thinking of what I would like in our marriage.”
Tristan smiled in relief, he rose and crossing to Arabella bowed low and then held out his hand to her.
Arabella took it after a moment of uncertainty, women were rarely asked to shake on anything.
“I look forward to reading what you write Miss Layden and hope in time that we become good friends and more,” Tristan said giving her tiny hand a gentle squeeze and a shake.
Arabella looked up and was lost in Sir Tristan’s dark blue eyes, they were full of sadness and had the look of someone who had seen too much and suffered for a long time and her heart went out to him.
“I would like that too” Arabella replied after her senses returned.
Tristan gave her another smile. “Would you walk with me to Avondale then and introduce me to the staff? We could walk and talk along the way.”
Arabella nodded and rose smoothly to her feet, her heart speeding up at the thought of walking with Sir Tristan.
“I would like that very much,” Arabella replied offering a shy smile. “Just let me freshen up and I’ll be ready.”
“Of course, but you look utterly lovely to me. I’ll wait for you in the front garden then? It has been years since I saw anything as lovely as the flowers in your garden or you ladies.” Tristan gave the women a bow, then turned to show himself out.
“Oh my,” Liza said as Tristan stepped from the room. “Do you think he means it? That he will let you write up an agreement?”
“Yes, yes, I do. Quickly, Liza, help me change into my flower print dress, and tidy my hair, I’m going walking with an earl.” Arabella said, suddenly feeling as giddy as a schoolgirl. That morning, everything had looked bleak and hopeless, she had been trying to think of ways to repair her home, facing spinsterhood, and thinking up ways to avoid the oily Mortimer Lester. Now, a handsome man wished to court her; true, he was being forced to do it, but he’d also said that he would abide by her wishes and not make her do anything she didn’t want to do. At the moment, she badly wanted to go walking with the handsome Sir Tristan, let the village gossips say and think what they wanted, she finally had a beau.