Part 7 (1/2)
”It is a hard fate to be married to a stranger and taken from your home and expected to serve him cheerfully, is it not?” he said softly, moving his head down so that he kissed her lightly on her cheek close to her ear. ”I am sorry, Arabella.”
”But I have not complained,” she said, bewildered. ”I try to do my duty, my lord.”
” 'My lord,' ” he repeated, raising his head to look into her eyes again. His mouth smiled, though his eyes did not change. ”You do your duty very sweetly, Arabella. I am a fortunate man.”
He laid his cheek against her hair and the rhythm of his body penetrated her own again in the final act of union. But Arabella no longer relaxed to enjoy it. She lay bewildered and unhappy beneath her husband, wondering what he had meant. He had let the candles burn for the first time. He had kissed her for the first time. He had talked to her for the first time while in her bed. But there had been an edge of something to his voicea”bitterness, anger, sarcasm: she did not know whata”that had taken away from the totally unexpected tenderness of his kiss. What was he trying to tell her?
He turned his face into her hair, sighed, and relaxed his weight on her. Arabella lay still and anxious. She watched him a minute later as he lifted himself away from her, sat on the edge of the bed, and reached down to the floor for his dressing gown.
He looked closely into her face for what seemed like a long time. ”Thank you, Arabella,” he said at last. ”Perhaps soon I will get you with child and your duty will be done for a year or more.”
His smile looked somewhat twisted as he got to his feet. ”Good night,” he said.
”Good night, my lord.” Arabella's throat hurt, and she realized that she was very close to tears. She was bewildered. And hurt. What was the matter? What had she done? She had never seen his lords.h.i.+p like this before.
It was a long time before she slept, troubled, her happy day in ruins, though she did not know quite in what way or why.
Lord Astor's party made their planned visit to Kew the following afternoon despite the fact that a brisk wind and heavy clouds made the day chilly and gloomy.
Frances looked about her at the flowers and the temples, all very lovely and very impressive when one considered that they had been planned and built by the royal family. She s.h.i.+vered inside her pelisse and lowered her parasol before the wind could blow it inside out. She had not taken Theodore's arm.
”You are not happy to see me, Fran,” he said. He spoke quietly. They were walking a little way ahead of Lord and Lady Astor.
”Not happy?” she said, darting him a conscious glance. ”Of course I am happy to see you, Theodore.”
”I thought you might be homesick,” he said. ”You were so upset the day of your sister's wedding that I thought you might be unhappy here. It is a relief to find that you are neither. I have always wanted to be here for the Season, you know. Now I will be able to relax and enjoy myself without worrying about you.”
Frances darted him another look. ”And you could not enjoy yourself if I had been unhappy?” she said.
”I hate to see you miserable, as you know,” he said. ”We have always been friends, have we not, Fran? I would have felt obliged to stay close to you all the time if you had been homesick. After all, your sister cannot do so, as she has a husband to attend to. But I am happy to know that you will not need me every moment.”
”Are you?” Frances said. ”I am very pleased to know that I will not be holding you back from your own enjoyment, I am sure, Theodore. I would never wish to be a burden to anyone.”
”Oh, no, no,” he said, ”you are never a burden, Fran. You may call on me anytime you need me, you know. That is what friends are for.”
”I will not trouble you, you may be sure,” Frances said with a toss of the head.
”Well, as long as you know that you can if you must,” Theodore said cheerfully. ”I do believe that must be the famous paG.o.da ahead of us. It is rather splendid, is it not?”
”Quite magnificent, sir,” Frances agreed.
”I say,” he said, looking down at her in apparent surprise, ”I have not said anything to offend you, have I?”
”Me, sir?” she asked, her eyes widening as she looked up at him. ”Offended? What could possibly have offended me?”
”Quite so,” he said. ”Would you care to take my arm?”
Frances took it but walked as far from him as their linked arms would allow.
Arabella was also impressed by the paG.o.da, which was ten stories high and elaborately ornamented. But she had been far more pleased with the Temple of Bellona and several other temples because his lords.h.i.+p had told her that the present king had helped design some of them when he was a very young man. She had gazed at the first one, speechless with wonder.
”How very clever he was,” she had breathed at last, clinging to her husband's arm.
He had smiled. ”The buildings are not generally admired,” he had said. ”But they do have a certain charm, do they not?”
And when they finally glimpsed the Dutch Palace, where the king and queen sometimes lived, she was quite ecstatic.
”Oh,” she said, ”is his majesty there now? Am I gazing with my very own eyes at the palace where he is now? Is he well-tended, do you think? He is not treated cruelly?”
”I am sure he has the very best physicians attending him, Arabella,” he said. ”You must not worry. He has a devoted family, I believe. But he is said to be at Windsor, not here.”
They talked all the time as they walked through the gardens. Arabella made a special effort, determined to overcome her shyness with her husband, eager to make him her friend. But she could not feel easy. Her attempts at conversation sounded forced and stilted to her own ears, and his responses were labored. And there was something between thema”she had no idea what. They had never been close. Indeed, she had always felt uncomfortable with him. But this was different. There was something!
Lord Astor was attempting to make the afternoon a happy one for his wife. At the same time, he was wis.h.i.+ng that he were a hundred miles away. Their marriage had been a mistake, he was beginning to realize. That was the plain truth stated quite baldly.
It had been a mistake for both of them. For him it had brought restlessness and uncertainty. His life had been a remarkably contented one before Arabella came into it. He had enjoyed spending his days engaged in manly pursuits with his male friends. And he had been thoroughly satisfied with his liaison with Ginny. That old life was still open to him, of course. He still had his friends and he still had Ginny.
But there was also Arabella. And why she should have upset the pattern of his life so much he could not understand. Really their marriage was much as he had expected and hoped. She was undemanding. She had made friends and was able to occupy her days quite easily without depending upon him. She was dutiful, obedient. Bedding her was not an unpleasant experience.
What was it, then, that made him spend more time with her than he needed to do? Why had he planned to take her to the theater the evening before, and why was he walking with her now at Kew? Why did he worry about her when he was away from her, even when he knew she was occupied? Why could he never quite forget about her, even when he was with Ginny? Why did he always feel guilty when enjoyinga”or not quite enjoyinga”his mistress? He was never able to go to Arabella's bed on the nights when he had been with Ginny. And he was always driven to buy her gifts the next day.
”Aunt Hermione is to take you and Frances up in her carriage this evening on her way to Mrs. Pottier's soiree?” he asked now.
”Yes, my lord.” Arabella looked politely up at him. ”Will you be coming too? You said you might.”
”No,” he said. ”I have a dinner engagement, Arabella. I shall see you when you return.”
”Yes,” she said. And then she blurted, ”My lord?” She was blus.h.i.+ng quite hotly. Her eyes slid to his cravat.
”What is it, Arabella?” he asked.
”That will not be possible,” she said in a rush, glancing nervously ahead to her sister and Theodore. ”I will not be able to see you after the soiree. I mean, I will be able to see you, but... I cannot... That is...”
”I understand.” He covered her hand gently with his own. ”You are having your period, Arabella. It is the most natural occurrence in the world, you know. There is no need for such embarra.s.sment. I see we are approaching the orangery. After we have walked through it, perhaps we should take tea and think of returning home. It is not a very pleasant afternoon for a prolonged stroll, is it? And perhaps you are not feeling quite the thing?”
”It has been a lovely outing, though,” she said brightly, ”has it not, my lord? I am so glad we came.”
He patted her hand before standing aside so that she might precede him into the long, low building that was the orangery. ”The gardens are certainly worth a visit,” he said.
”The warmth feels very good, does it not”, Bella?” Frances said, looking back over her shoulder.
Their marriage had been a mistake for Arabella too, Lord Astor thought. She was not happy. He had no complaint against her, of course. He could not ask for a more obedient and less troublesome bride. But he knew she was not happy.
And why should she be? She was eighteen years old, very naive and innocent, very new to the world. In many ways she was childlike. To her he must appear old. Seven-and-twenty would seem a very advanced age to an eighteen-year-old. And of course, she had not known him before their betrothal. Why was it that at the time his only anxiety had been lest his bride turn out to be ugly or uncouth? What must she have suffered? She had had no chance to enjoy life, no time to look about her at what life had to offer. She had had to prepare herself for a bridegroom she had never seen.
And she had expected his father. She had been willing to marry a man in his late fifties. And he was sure that she had been willing. He knew her well enough, and Frances well enough, to imagine just how that situation had developed. One daughter must marry the new Lord Astor for the sake of the rest of the family. Frances was the obvious choice. She was the eldest and of marriageable age. But of course Frances would have shed many a tear over the prospect of marrying an elderly man. Arabella would have stepped in and offered to make the sacrifice herself. It was just like her. She had very little confidence in her own beauty and charm.