Chapter Twelve
Arabella, Clara, and Elizabeth followed the other women into the parlor to wait for the men to join them. The parlor was filled with dark wooden furniture covered in red satin, and everywhere Arabella looked were porcelain figurines of girls with baskets or carrying fruit. Large silver candelabras sat on the mantel, and lamps sat on all the tables, casting a warm glow about the room. As the women broke into small groups and settled onto the narrow settee or competed for a chair near the piano, Mrs. Belmont began raving about Lucinda’s talents as a pianist and singer and saying that once the men joined them, she would perform for them.
Arabella introduced Clara to Elizabeth, and the two women were soon chatting like old friends. Clara had again asked if she would be allowed to visit them at Rose Cottage, to speak to them about plants and see Arabella’s garden, and perhaps take cuttings from any plants that she didn’t own. In exchange, Clara had promised to bring treats, as her mother’s hobby was baking and making sweets.
Arabella looked about the parlor, taking in the expensive furniture, and thought of her own humble cottage and its simple furniture. She rather preferred her simple furniture to the Belmonts’ plush, dark furnishings and silly figurines.
“I have heard Lucinda sing and play before, and I suggest we stay here by the wall. Our ears will thank us for it later,” Clara whispered, earning a soft giggle from Elizabeth.
As Arabella and her friends looked for a place at the back of the room to stand, Lucinda and her friends, Hester and Olivia descended on Arabella and her friends. Lucinda’s face was flushed and twisted in anger as she descended upon Arabella.
“So, Arabella, you think you have a chance with lord Sizemore? That he would take notice of a plain little mouse like you? You are nothing but a frumpy little nothing; it is only out of kindness that he spends time with you. I mean to marry him, and soon.” Lucinda sneered. “Then I will be a countess.”
Arabella gasped in shock at the sheer audacity of Lucinda’s words and her vitriol. Arabella had never done anything to the older girl. They had only exchanged words a few times; there was no cause for her to level such hatred at Arabella.
“My relationship with Sir Tristan is none of your concern,” Arabella replied softly, not wanting to bring undo attention to herself or the others.
“Oh, but it is, he is the best-looking lord to come to this county for years. And I mean to have him and soon.” Lucinda taunted.
“And he has a London townhouse. When they are married, we can stay with Lucinda and he will escort us about town,” Hester added her nose high in the air.
“Oh, please, Lucinda, you have no hope of marrying Sir Tristan; it was plain during dinner that he wanted nothing to do with you. And if you don’t retract your claws and call off your dogs, I will be forced to tell everyone about you and a certain lord in Lady Morgan’s garden during her ball. And about you and a different gentleman in Lady Hughes’ hedge maze during her ball, you wouldn’t want people in the area to know you are, well, indiscreet.” Clara stepped forward to stare down Lucinda, even though the pinch-faced blonde was a good two inches taller than the petite Clara, Lucinda stepped back, her face draining of color.
“You wouldn’t dare, its lies all lies.” Lucinda sputtered turning puce.
“Really, I have a very good memory. I can tell you the exact minute when each happened, and you forget mother is the daughter of a count. Father might be in trade, by Mother is a countess, and Uncle Paul is a count, and mother is friends with numerous ladies in London. I say the right words in the right ears, and you will never be invited to another London function. Now shoo, go away. Nobody wants you here.” Clara said.
Lucinda looked at her two friends and let out a loud humph sound, then turned and stormed away, her friends on her heels. The three young women moved to settle on the settee, where they began whispering back and forth while shooting dark looks towards Arabella and Clara.
“That was amazing, thank you,” Arabella said, her heart beating faster from the unwanted confrontation.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth added. “She is a very unpleasant female; I have met her kind before. Out to find rich titled husbands and then establish themselves in the ton as a grand dame. Then they make their husbands and everyone else miserable just to make themselves feel important.”
Arabella thought of Tristan and is kindness, his gentleness with the children; he didn’t deserve to fall into the clutches of a blood sucking woman like Lucinda. Arabella thought of life without Tristan, of long, lonely days and hours ahead, of watching Elizabeth’s children growing up, of her and Elizabeth alone eking out a living in Rose Cottage. She thought of days of scrimping by on meager rations and patched dresses. Then Arabella remembered Tristan’s kiss, the feel of his lips on her, the touch of his hand. She loved him; it came to her like a thunderbolt, and she had fallen in love with Tristan how could she not? The thought of losing him was worse than her fear of moving away, fear of letting him into her heart. He was her chance at happiness and she would be a fool to let it slip away just because she was afraid.
Arabella couldn’t wait till Tristan joined them; she would speak to him as soon as she saw him and ask him if he still wished to marry her. Arabella silently prayed he hadn’t changed his mind and he still wanted her otherwise life would be unbearable.
* * * *
After supper was finished, the men were ushered into the Belmonts’ billiard room, and the Belmonts’ dower faced butler began walking around the room asking if any of the gentlemen would like drinks. Tristan had never learned to play billiards; in fact, he’d never even played a single game. Tristan heard Harcourt Belmont asking if anyone would like to play a game for money, not wishing to be harassed by the odious gentleman, Tristan motioned Marcus to the back corner of the room.
Wondering if he could slip away without notice, Tristan looked around the billiards room, watching his host talk with the reverend and Colonel Godfrey while they nursed large glasses of brandy. After a moment, Edgar Waterhouse came to join him, the younger man giving him a friendly nod.
“Can I hide back here with you? I’m trying to avoid Mr. Belmont.” Edgar asked, stepping up to Tristan and Marcus.
“Owe him money?” Marcus joked.
“No, actually Dudley owes my father a sizeable amount of blunt. But I’m trying to avoid Mr. Belmont; he has approached me before about Clara. He’s been trying to pressure my father into convincing Clara to marry Dudley,” Edgar shuddered visibly as he cast a sidelong glance at the foppish gentleman.
“Not good husband material?” Tristan asked looking over at the fop.
“Indeed, and just not good in general. Clara doesn’t know that I know, but Dudley tried to force himself on her after church a few weeks ago. Clara had to hit him over the head with a bottle of sacramental wine to get out of his clutches.” Edgar replied, his face turning into a scowl.
“And you didn’t beat the blighter to death?” Tristan asked, thinking that if some bastard had done that to his sister he would have.
“My brother Victor and I were tempted, but if we did it would call attention to what he did to her. Besides, Clara knows how to protect herself; Father and Victor taught her how to box and she’s rather good at it.” Edgar replied, “Anyway, he is a total cad, last month we were at a dinner party and he tried to place his hand on her knee. When he wouldn’t remove it, she stabbed him with a fork hard enough to make him bleed.”
“Feisty girl, I like that in a woman,” Marcus joked.
“You don’t happen to know why she poured a glass of wine all over him tonight?” Tristan asked. He had seen how Dudley had been leering at Arabella all through dinner. If the toad had touched her, he would do more than pour a glass of wine over him.
“I have my suspicions but no evidence.” Edgar replied, “I saw Lucinda trying to gain your favor during supper. She was so close to you, I was expecting her to climb into your lap next. The wench is relentless in her quest to marry a titled young lord; it’s the only reason she hasn’t set her cap for me or my brother Victor. We have funds but no title.”
“Title I might have, but no coin. I returned home only a few weeks ago to discover that my father and brothers had frittered away all our money, then conveniently died, leaving me to settle their debts and save our estates. As for Lucinda, she seems to have the warmth of a cobra, and I’d not want to take one of them to my bed any more than I would her.” Tristan replied with a shudder.
“An appropriate analogy, for she is indeed a viper. As for lacking funds, so is most of the ton, but if you want help reversing your fortune, Father is a genius at investing, as is Victor. Father made a fortune by the time he was twenty-three. Let me give you my card, it has my address here and in London.” Edgar pulled a card from his silk waistcoat pocket and handed it to Tristan. “We’re just the next county over in the old Claremont manor. Stop by anytime. Father is always happy to help people get out of debt and give advice.”
Tristan took the card with a nod of thanks. “Thank you, I just might do that. Thanks to my brother’s excesses, my coffers are empty.” Tristan confessed, liking the affable young man.
There was a call of hello, and Dudley stepped into the room, now dressed in an all-new suit of clothes and what appeared to be a fresh shirt.
“If I can offer some other advice, plead a headache and leave before Lucinda sings and plays for us.” Edgar gave a dramatic shudder.
“That bad?” Marcus asked, with raised eyebrows.
“Well, I have heard scalded cats sing better.” Edgar drawled, his eyes moving to settle on Dudley. “We should make our escape now before the Belmont brothers try to talk us into a billiard game for money. They both cheat something dreadful.”
“Neither of us knows how to play. I was in boarding school till I joined the army at seventeen, and Marcus’ father is a vicar, so he never had a chance either.” Tristan replied.
“Well, when you come for a visit, I can teach you both how to play if you like. But for now, I think we should escape while we can and find the ladies,” Edgar suggested, nodding towards the open door.
Tristan exchanged a look with Marcus, who nodded in agreement.
“Lead the way,” Tristan said, eager to escape.
Edgar looked about, then, like a mischievous boy, motioned for Tristan and Marcus to follow him. Tristan followed gladly only too happy to get away from the Belmonts.
* * * *
Arabella’s heart skipped a beat when she saw Tristan step into the parlor, followed by Marcus and Edgar Waterhouse. Arabella took a step towards them as they sauntered into the room, drawing all eyes as they did.
“Ladies, I hope you are well?” Tristan asked, moving to stand beside Arabella.
“Well enough,” Arabella replied as she inched closer to Tristan. “I would like you both to meet our new friend, Clara Waterhouse. I see you have met her brother already.”
“Yes, he introduced himself to us earlier. He helped us escape the billiards room. He suggests we depart the party before Miss Lucinda performs for us,” Tristan said nodding subtly at Lucinda across the room.
“I concur; I had the misfortune to hear her sing twice in London it sounded like a dying goose. We had best think of a good excuse,” Clara chimed in.
Across the room, Lucinda looked up from her friends to see Tristan. Arabella saw Lucinda’s eyes focus on Tristan and knew she had to act quickly before Lucinda tried something nefarious. Arabella leaned her head closer to Tristan, not wanting to be overheard.
“Tristan, could I speak to you in private for a moment?” Arabella asked, looking about to see that no one was watching them. Tristan gave her a smile and a nod, then offered her his arm.
“Of course, the hall is empty, we can speak there. If you will excuse us for a moment,” Tristan gave the others a nod, then, placing Arabella’s hand on his arm, escorted her into the hall.
Once they were alone in the dimly lit hall, Tristan turned to Arabella. He could see that she was anxious about something, and that concerned him deeply. He had grown rather attached to her in the past few days and didn’t like to see her distressed.
“What is it?” Tristan asked in concern.
“Do you still wish to marry me?” Arabella asked, looking up at him.
“But of course, in fact, I wish it more than before. Now that I know you, know how wonderful you are, I can’t imagine not having you in my life,” Tristan replied with a smile as he looked down into her beautiful eyes.
“Good, then ask me to marry you again,” Arabella said, blushing at her boldness.
Tristan gave her a puzzled look for a moment, but didn’t question. He dropped to his left knee and took Arabella’s left hand in both of his, earning a soft gasp of surprise.
“Miss Layden, when I came to Avondale seeking your help and your hand, I was a desperate man. I had hoped you would consent to wed me so I could save my home and myself, but then I saw you, and you took my breath away. Now I can’t spend a day without you, I hurry through dressing each morning, eager to see your eyes and your smile. Eager to discuss our plans for the day, I look forward to our talks, our walks, and our plans for the future. At night, I lie awake for hours imagining what you will wear the next day, what we will do.” Tristan paused to award Arabella a smile. “I have no funds, but I promise you will have my heart and my loyalty. I promise I will never betray you, or harm you, or let you come to harm. And I vow to love you more every day and to care for you for as long as I live. So, Arabella Layden, will you make me the happiest man in all of England and marry me?”
Arabella had been expecting a simple proposal, not such a heartfelt statement. She looked down into Tristan’s eyes, studied his face, and knew he was speaking from the heart. She nodded her head.
“Yes, yes, I will. I must confess my feelings for you are the same.” Arabella replied, not believing that Tristan loved her.
Tristan felt his heart soar, and he rose to his feet to smile at Arabella as he tried to memorize what she looked like at this moment in time.
“You will, that is wonderful, simply wonderful. But it is not official till you wear my ring. I bought this over a year ago, in a small store in Venice. It called to me and I knew that if someday I was lucky enough to have a lady in my life, I would like to give it to her.” Tristan pulled a small silver ring from his pocket and held it out to Arabella.
Arabella’s eyes widened in surprise as she looked down at the ring Tristan held out to her. It was a small heart-shaped amethyst surrounded by small green leaves of various shades. At first glance, it resembled a flower bud, but if you studied it, you saw the heart. The ring was the loveliest thing she had ever seen.
“It is lovely, please put it on,” Arabella held out her hand, and with a nod, Tristan lifted her small hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. He was delighted to see that the ring fit her.
“It is a simple ring made of silver. The heart is amethyst, and the petals are peridotite and emerald chips. If you don’t like it once I have funds, I can buy you something better.” Tristan replied.
“Oh no, no, it is beautiful and I love it, it is unique and you picked it out,” Arabella protested.
“Well then, there is only one last thing we must do to seal our betrothal,” Tristan said, brushing a stray lock of copper hair behind her right ear.
“What is that?” Arabella asked; she felt like her heart would explode from happiness. She was going to marry Tristan, she was never going to be alone or afraid again.
“A kiss,” Tristan cupped Arabella’s sweet little face with his hands and bending, pressed his lips to hers. In response, Arabella rose on her toes and grabbed his lapels as they deepened the kiss. Soon, everything was forgotten by the kiss and the feel of each other’s lips and hands.
“Arabella, you shameless harlot, how dare you throw yourself at Sir Tristan like that?” A high-pitched voice shattered the perfect moment, and Tristan reluctantly released Arabella and turned to see Lucinda and her two friends behind her in the door to the parlor.
“What did you call my betrothed?” Tristan grated out, taking firm hold of Arabella’s left hand as he turned to glare at Lucinda.
“You what?” Hester screeched, while Lucinda’s eyes went wide.
“My betrothed,” Tristan replied, and hand in hand with Arabella, he walked into the parlor. All eyes were on them as they stepped inside.
“I would like you all to be the first to know that Miss Layden has just agreed to marry me,” Tristan stated.
Marcus, Edgar, and Clara in the corner let out cheers and began to clap, while Mrs. Belmont let out a gasp and dropped to the settee, while Lucinda started screaming “No, no, no.”
Tristan pulled Arabella further into the room as behind him Mr. Belmont, the colonel, the two younger Belmonts, and the Reverend stepped into the parlor.
“My lord, what is all the commotion about?” Mr. Belmont demanded.
“I was just telling everyone that Miss Layden has just done me the great honor of agreeing to marry me,” Tristan stated.
“Congratulations, old boy,” The Colonel said as the reverend clapped loudly.
“Oh, my, that is capital news.” Mr. Belmont said, and then turned to the hovering butler. “Belkin, this call for champagne, go fetch some and glasses.”
Tristan and Arabella were soon being embraced by Marcus and patted on the back by Edgar, while Clara stood beside them clapping. Elizabeth gave Arabella a soft smile, while she hung back from the others.
“But you can’t marry her, you don’t even know each other that well,” Lucinda protested, her hands clenched at her side, looking like a child who had a sweat taken from her.
“I concur, you can’t possibly marry you barely know each other,” Mrs. Belmont interjected, looking from Tristan to Lucinda and back.
“You are wrong, I first saw Arabella when she was four or five, and I was about thirteen. It was at my uncle and aunt’s Christmas ball. I was standing outside the music room, watching the couples dance, and I heard a small sound like that of a dove cooing. I turned about and there was this little red-haired elfin girl, wearing a green gown.” Tristan smiled down at Arabella, “The girl was crying, when I asked her why, she said it was because she wanted to dance but was not allowed. That she was wearing her new dress for the ball, but had been sent to her room as she was too young. She was crying so hard it broke my heart, so I asked her to dance with me, and there in the hall we danced. After a bit, she grew tired, and I sent her back to bed.”
“That was you? I thought I’d dreamed that. You were my prince?” Arabella murmured.
“Well, not a prince, but it was me. I didn’t remember till the other night when you wore that green gown, and it triggered a memory. I had planned to tell you on our wedding day, but now is just as good a time.” Tristan squeezed Arabella’s hand, then lifted it to kiss the back.
“And I do know Sir Tristan very well through his letters to his uncle, Sir Howard. Sir Howard would share Sir Tristan’s letters with me, often reading them aloud over and over. And he would often tell me stories about Sir Tristan from when he summered at Avondale. So you are wrong, we do know each other, in some ways we have known each other all our lives.” Arabella gave Lucinda and Mrs. Belmont a challenging look, daring them to contradict her. With Tristan by her side, she was no longer cowed by the likes of Lucinda Belmont.
Elizabeth stepped forward, “I am happy for them both, I think it is a splendid match.”
No one spoke for a moment as everyone looked awkwardly at each other. After a moment, Mr. Belmont stepped forward and clapped his hands. “Well, now that everything is settled, I would like to congratulate the happy couple again. This is a cause for celebration, not gloomy faces. Now, champagne for everyone.” Mr. Belmont said as Belkin and a maid seemed to appear in the room, as if by magic, carrying trays of champagne.
Arabella accepted a glass from Belkin and then turned to Tristan as he examined his glass critically.
“I have never had champagne before,” Arabella whispered to Tristan, as the maid and butler moved about the room giving out glasses of champagne.
“Neither have I,” Tristan whispered back. “But tonight is a momentous night all around. Do you like it?”
Arabella took a sip of the bubbling liquid and then wrinkled her nose, reminding Tristan of a rabbit.
“It is good, but it tickles my nose,” Arabella replied.
Tristan smiled in agreement before turning to steal a kiss, not caring who saw. Around the room, everyone, except Lucinda, raised their glass to the couple.
“To the happy couple,” Mr. Belmont said aloud, as everyone but Lucinda toasted the happy couple.
Arabella allowed herself a moment of smug satisfaction as she realized Tristan only had eyes for her.