His Countess For A Week. Sarah Mallory

things, such as wishing Mama and Papa had not died of the fever. Later, I wished that a handsome prince would carry me away and marry me.’ She laughed. ‘And in a way, that wish came true, only it was Sir Adam and Lady Roffey who carried me away when they took me to live with them.’

      ‘And you married their son.’

      ‘Yes. My handsome prince! Not that I needed to wish for that. We had plighted our troth years before, as children. I told you, I’d loved him all my life.’

      ‘People change.’

      ‘Not George,’ she said confidently. ‘When I finished my schooling and returned to Revesby Hall, we were as much in love as ever. He was at university by then, of course, but I saw him whenever he was home for the vacation. Or if he was rusticated.’ She laughed. ‘That was a frequent occurrence!’

      ‘He was a wild young man?’

      ‘No more so than any other.’ She frowned a little. ‘His health suffered whenever he was away, but after a few weeks of fresh air and good food he was quite himself again. His mother and father were always happy to have him at Revesby. He was an only son, you see, and they doted on him.’

      ‘And you married at one-and-twenty?’

      ‘Yes. George had wanted us to wait until he came into his grandfather’s inheritance at five-and-twenty before we married, but when I reached my majority I gained control of my own fortune and Sir Adam told him he had better look sharp or some other young man would take my fancy! Not that there was any likelihood of that. I was far too much in love.’

       But was he in love with you?

      Randolph could not be sure if it was that question or the small cloud passing in front of the sun that made the air suddenly colder. Its shadow also appeared to sober Arabella and the look she cast up at him was more than a little defiant.

      ‘Perhaps you think George did not share my feelings, but you are wrong. He told me often and often how much he loved me. That was the reason we continued to live with his parents, you see. He did not wish to use my fortune to buy a property, even though I had made it all over to him to do with as he wished.’

      Arabella stopped. She was chattering on as if she had known Lord Westray for years, telling him details he did not need to know. That he most likely did not want to hear. After all, he did not know George, did not love him as she did. Hot tears stung her eyes. She turned away, hunting for her handkerchief.

      ‘I beg your pardon.’ Her voice caught on a sob. ‘I did not mean to b-bore you.’

      He put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Arabella.’ His voice was low, quiet. ‘You could never bore me.’

      She had been struggling alone with her grief for months and it was such a comfort to have him there, strong, protective. Somehow, it lessened the pain of her bereavement.

      A footman was hurrying towards them and Arabella quickly pulled away from Randolph, flapping one hand at him.

      ‘I shall be well, my lord, if you give me a moment. I pray you, go and see what your servant wants.’

      He walked away and she wiped her eyes. A few deep breaths were all that was required to banish her tears, which surprised her, until she remembered how she had wept when George died. The time for such displays of grief was over. She had set herself a task and must concentrate on that. She gave her eyes a final wipe, blew her nose, and when she heard the Earl’s firm step approaching her again, she was ready to turn and look at him. He was smiling.

      ‘There is no need to worry that our sudden departure last night offended Lady Meon. She is even now in the drawing room!’

      ‘Excellent news, my lord.’

      She managed an answering smile and he held out his arm. As they turned to make their way back to the house, Arabella noticed a figure on the upper terrace.

      She was surprised into a little laugh. ‘I believe Lady Meon is coming to find us.’

      Even as she uttered the words the lady waved and ran lightly down the stone steps.

      ‘I hope you do not mind my coming outside,’ she called to them as she reached the next set of steps. ‘I should very much like to see the gardens, if I may join you?’

      ‘To see the gardens, at this season?’

      Randolph’s muttered response made Arabella want to giggle, but she stifled it.

      She waved to their visitor and called out politely, ‘Of course, madam. We should be delighted to have your company.’

      The lady approached, her fur-lined tippet bouncing around her shoulders as she descended the last flight of steps.

      ‘I came to ask after your health, Lady Westray. How relieved I am to see that you have fully recovered from last night’s little shock.’

      ‘Thank you. I am perfectly well now.’

      It was the first time Arabella had seen the lady out of doors without the face veil she invariably wore when riding. At all their other encounters during daylight hours, Lady Meon had been indoors and at pains to sit with her back to the window. Arabella thought now that candlelight was much kinder to a countenance well past the first bloom of youth. It concealed the lines and faint sagging of the skin that were all too apparent in the pale sunlight.