So, now she just had to wait for the right moment to supposedly deliver the child who would be reared as Debenham’s heir. She hoped it would be a boy and thus end the pressure for going through another ghastly confinement, but who knew what the girl Mrs. Mobbs had found would produce. All Araminta knew was that the prospective mother was the daughter of an earl; that her name could not be divulged, but who, as an unmarried debutante, had no choice but to give up her child.
That was fine with Araminta. She didn’t need to know the woman’s identity; in fact, she didn’t want to. The less either of them knew anything, the better. Araminta certainly didn’t want to meet her at some ball or soiree only to have the young woman demand her child back.
No, Mrs. Mobbs had covered all eventualities. The young woman had apparently been accommodated at the home of a respectable farmer and his wife, who lived nearby, and her child would be delivered to Araminta when it was born. A wet nurse had been secured, and all Araminta had to do was contrive to conduct her labor at a convenient moment. No detail had been overlooked by the efficient Mrs. Mobbs.
Jane, seated in the corner, looked up from removing the dust from one of Araminta’s walking dresses with a small brush. “Miss ‘Etty reckons the gennulmen ain’t s’pected fer anuvver ‘our at least, m’lady, an’ that’s afta yer in bed, now that yer’ve taken ter turnin’ in so early. Reckon yer’ll ‘ave ter wait til t’morra to see Lord Ludbridge.”
“I only turn in early because it’s so tedious in the country. If we’re having company tonight, then of course I shall see Lord Ludbridge this evening,” Araminta declared, walking over to her dressing table and bending to examine herself in the looking glass. Thoughtfully, she twirled a ringlet around her finger. “I’m glad to see the contours have returned to my face. I really did look quite puffy toward the end. I’d not have liked Lord Ludbridge to see me as I was a few weeks ago.”
“No, m’lady, ‘ e’d ‘ ave bin right put off.”
“He thought me as beautiful as ever when he visited me at the opera,” Araminta pointed out quickly.
“Lord Ludbridge will be lookin’ fer a wife. I reckon ‘ e’s too good a gennulman fer dalliances an’ I don’t know why yer think it’s wise ter be danglin’ after ‘im. Specially when yer know ‘ow jealous yer ‘usband can get.”
Araminta sighed. “You say that as if you think I’m stupid, Jane.” She sat down and stared at her maid with a sorrowful expression. “Apart from the fact that Lord Ludbridge is the kindest, sincerest gentleman I’ve ever met, I need him to avert a tricky situation that could cause the direst state of affairs, not just for me, but for you too, Jane. If you value your position, then you’ll ensure that good Lord Ludbridge finds a way to speak to me in private, whether that’s outside behind the bushes, but preferably inside.”
“Don’t know where yer could be private indoors wiv everyone ‘bout ‘cept in yer bedchamber
, miss, an’ that certainly can’t happen.”
“Oh, Jane! You are a marvel!” Araminta’s eyes lit up. “Of course! I shall faint! I fainted at a musical afternoon not so long ago, and Lord Ludbridge carried me out of the busy drawing room to somewhere quite private. Well, I’ll just do it again tonight. Mama will, of course, accompany him when he brings me back here, but you’ll know what to do. You always do, Jane.” At the sound of dogs barking and horses galloping up the drive, Araminta leaped up so fast she nearly dislodged the ridiculously cumbersome false belly. “You were wrong as usual, Jane, for here they are!” she cried, opening the casement and waving with due decorum to the group of horsemen who were passing beneath. They doffed their hats, and Araminta turned back to her maid, hugging herself.
“At last, something enjoyable is happening after two dreary weeks in this forgotten neck of the woods.”
Of course, the worst would have to be survived. Araminta decided she’d greet Sir Aubrey when the rest of the family were milling about, so as to make her interest less conspicuous. With Lord Ludbridge standing beside Sir Aubrey, smiling his warm, disarming smile, she realized once and for all that the passion she’d once felt for Hetty’s husband had now definitely shifted to the more deserving Ludbridge, despite his abandonment of her in her hour of need.
Now she faced another hour of need. But first, she had to find an opportunity to be alone with him. Fainting, she now realized, was not practical since it would be impossible to fool him into believing she was enceinte if he carried her to her room. Not even her mother or Hetty had physically touched her. For two weeks, she’d kept her distance or to her bed.
No, she would have to find a means to entice him into the conservatory when the others were gathered in the drawing room listening to Hetty play the piano.
The moment the men had dismounted and run up the steps and into the grand lobby, Araminta was conscious of Lord Ludbridge’s eyes upon her. She pretended not to notice as she greeted the other gentlemen in the party, which included two friends of Sir Aubrey, up from London. Araminta recalled having seen them on the dance floor at various London balls the previous season. While they’d solicited her to partner them, they showed little interest in her now. Sir Aubrey inclined his head with cool civility; her father barely acknowledged his wife or daughters as he tended to the needs of his visitors. It was enough to make Araminta weep. Doing her best to appear to advantage in her great, bloated body, she was totally disregarded by the men who’d once feted her.
Only Lord Ludbridge showed the same adoration as previously, and her heart went out to him even more. Sir Aubrey had betrayed her. He’d led her to believe he would make her an offer, and then had secretly wed Hetty. Debenham treated her abominably. He’d tricked her into marriage then shown callous disregard for her comfort and desires the moment she’d begun to lose the outward attractions that had been his principal interest.
But Lord Ludbridge was pure of heart. Of all the handsome, eligible men she’d encountered, he deserved her the most.
Later, as she sat quietly embroidering in the drawing room, pretending her chief concern was embellishing the infant’s cap Jane had sewn, her thoughts drifted to the life she should have had. A life at Lord Ludbridge’s side, as his hostess, the adored angel he would have put on a pedestal if he hadn’t left her vulnerable to wicked, wicked Debenham.
“Lady Debenham, are you all right?”
She hadn’t realized she’d sobbed aloud, but here he was, bending low at her side, his voice an intimate murmur. The soft caress of his breath against her exposed neck sent a charge of desire right through her groin, piercing her heart along the way, and as she gazed at him, she could feel his answering need for her as though it were a tangible thing.
She flicked a glance past him. The men were discussing their ride in a cluster at the sideboard as Lord Partington refilled glasses. Hetty and her mother were quietly occupied in their twin armchairs on either side of the fireplace. The curtains were drawn for it was dark outside and the room was bathed in a soft, rosy glow that reflected off the red, patterned wallpaper and the rich cream and red Aubusson rug. Araminta knew she would be seen to her best advantage with such soft lighting. It would be a good time to press her advantage.
“I find it difficult to sit for so long when that’s all Mama and Hetty wish to do. Perhaps you would accompany me for a walk to the conservatory, Lord Ludbridge.” She smiled, hoping he’d appreciate the graceful curve of her neck after she’d angled herself slightly to the right. His hesitation was swept away when she surreptitiously brushed his coat sleeve, then the back of his hand, with her fingertips before picking up her needlework once more, pretending she’d never made a gesture that appealed to him so artfully. “My Cousin Stephen is a keen horticulturist and very proud of his pineapple, but perhaps I might show you, myself.” She sent him an impish smile. “You can impress him with your superior knowledge of cultivation, later, when he no doubt collars you and the rest of the gentlemen and takes you all off to admire his latest achievements.”
“I would be delighted, Lady Debenham. That is if you are sure it would not be too taxing.”
Araminta rose, careful to do so with less eagerness than she was feeling. “No, no, the physician, in fact, recommends a little gentle exercise. Come.” As she looked over her shoulder when she reached the door, her heart hitched a little to see him staring after her as if he truly were entranced.
And when she took his arm in the passage after the door was shut behind them, she was aware of the frisson of feeling that charged up her arm, and knew he felt it too, by the flare in his eye.
Leisurely, they made their progress along the passage to the conservatory at the rear of the house, passing through the pinery and into a separate structure, more private, where Araminta said, with a flourish of her arm, “Cousin Stephen is experimenting with oak bark in water to create the temperatures needed, for the pineapple does not grow as easily as his oranges.” She turned, suddenly, for now they were in the center of the cavernous structure, the air noticeably warmer and moister. Araminta was feeling warmer and moister, too. With a heartfelt look at Lord Ludbridge, she whispered in equally impassioned tones, “You cannot know how I have missed you, Teddy.”
Over his shoulder, the star-studded sky twinkled through the many panes of glass, but it was his face, pained and full of answering love, that drew her attention as he gave rein to the full force of his feelings.
“Dear God, Araminta, what are you doing to me? Why tell me this when you know how you torture me?”