“My name is Marcus. If I’m to be your suitor, you should call me by my given name.” He raised his hand to her mouth and brushed his thumb lightly over her lower lip. “I will expect you home in time to dine with me this evening. You promised me four hours of your company each day, remember?”
“I remember,” she managed to reply, her voice uneven.
Returning to his horse, he gathered the reins and mounted, then sat looking down at her. “Oh, and Arabella, the next time you run from me, you had best choose a swifter horse, for I won’t let you off so easily when I catch you.”
With that he wheeled his horse and rode away, leaving her to gape after him, her fingers held to her tingling lips.
Chapter Four
I must be mad also, since I just agreed to the earl’s wager.
– Arabella to Fanny
Marcus shook his head in disbelief as he rode toward Danvers Hall. He hadn’t counted on making an impulsive proposal of marriage to his beautiful ward. Ironic that he would behave so rashly after maneuvering for years to elude the snares set for him by scores of mercenary females. But he’d acted on sheer instinct.
If he had to marry, he wanted a wife like Arabella, and he wouldn’t let the opportunity pass to stake his claim to her.
Certainly she fit his requisites for his countess, with breeding and beauty and intelligence to spare. Of more vital importance, she was spirited and fascinating enough to hold his interest long beyond any initial courtship.
Indeed, he couldn’t recall ever finding any woman so desirable as Arabella. She would make a delightful lover in their marriage bed, Marcus reflected. Kissing her today had proved irrevocably that the spark of fire between them was no figment of his imagination.
Marcus felt his loins harden at the remembrance of their first embrace. And although their last kiss had been a mere brush of lips, it had still thoroughly aroused him.
He had aroused Arabella just as intensely, he knew. Just not enough to convince her to consider his suit.
Recalling her determined rejection of his proposal, Marcus grinned. Never had he dreamed he would be in this position-having to persuade a lady that she wanted him for her husband. He’d never had to actively pursue any female. Until now, women, like everything else in life, had come easily to him. When he’d played the game of love with his mistresses, it was purely because he enjoyed the challenge of it.
Marcus laughed softly to himself. Arabella would provide him ample challenge, certainly. But her adamant rebuff had compelled him to quickly invent an alternate strategy to woo her, the result being his wager with her.
He had every faith the wager would be a cure for his recent restlessness. He seemed to be suffering from more than simple boredom, Marcus admitted. H
e filled his days with cards and hunts and boxing mills and races, but his clubs and sporting pursuits couldn’t appease the odd dissatisfaction he’d felt with his life of late. Not even the extensive responsibilities of managing his various estates could.
Pursuing Arabella, however, was a goal he could relish. And so was overcoming her resistance. Marcus thought he understood why she was so ardently opposed to marriage. He was confident, however, that he would eventually prevail in gaining her surrender.
Yet he only had two weeks to achieve it.
Suddenly impatient, Marcus spurred his horse to greater speed to return to his newest estate. He had missives to send to London. For the sooner he could devise a romantic courtship of Arabella, the sooner he could declare victory.
By the time she arrived home two hours later, Arabella had pondered the earl’s astonishing wager long enough to judge it imperative for her to develop an offensive strategy.
Lord Danvers believed he could seduce her into accepting his proposal of marriage, but while she was firmly resolved never to wed him, she was at a severe disadvantage in their competition, having so little experience in dealing with a nobleman of his stamp.
And he is almost irresistibly seductive, Arabella reflected as she dismounted in the stableyard. Involuntarily, her fingers rose again to her lips at the memory of his devastating kisses. If her melting response this afternoon was any indication, she would be hard-pressed to withstand temptation.
She was eager to begin, however, for she intended to win freedom for herself and her sisters. It might even prove enjoyable, trying to match wits with Lord Danvers.
The first step, of course, was to contrive a plan to foil his seduction. Certainly, if he hoped to woo her, she would have to make him work at it.
She also would have to write Fanny immediately and get her advice. Fanny Irwin was a renowned Cyprian who had once been a genteel young lady herself. She’d practically grown up with the Loring sisters in Hampshire, where they were near neighbors. Even after Fanny had run off at sixteen to make her fortune in London, they had maintained the close friendship.
Since Arabella’s broken engagement, Fanny had taught her a good deal about men. Fanny would know much better than she how to rout Lord Danvers.
Meanwhile, Arabella mused, she would be wise to use every resource at her disposal, which meant enlisting help from trusted allies, beginning with her housekeeper and butler.
Feeling an unexpected tingle of anticipation, Arabella left her horse in the stables with one of his lordship’s grooms and detoured to the kitchens to meet with Mrs. Simpkin. The housekeeper, who had also become cook when the rest of the staff was let go, regularly prepared tasty if modest meals with the aid of their one chambermaid. And even though three days ago the new earl had installed a dozen servants at the Hall, Mrs. Simpkin still held sway in the kitchens.
If the elderly woman was puzzled by Arabella’s unusual request for that evening’s dinner, she was too well-trained to show it. But the twinkle in her kind brown eyes suggested a willingness to abet the conspiracy.