Arabella suddenly felt a constriction tightening her chest. “They had an affair while her husband was still alive?”
“Well, yes. But it came to nothing in the end, and I doubt Lord Danvers is the least bit interested in her any longer.”
Arabella stared in dismay at Marcus and his beautiful inamorata. She couldn’t deny her jealousy, yet her distress was not only because the stunning Lady Eberly had once been his mistress; it was also because Marcus had pursued the lady while she was still another man’s wife.
Dragging her gaze away, Arabella lifted a hand to her mouth.
“Are you all right, dear?” Winifred asked in concern.
She couldn’t answer just then for the churning in her stomach. To think Marcus had been trying to persuade her to accept his offer of marriage while assuring her that he was nothing like her father, who had harbored no qualms about committing adultery.
“It is nothing,” Arabella managed to lie. “Perhaps I indulged in too many rich dishes at dinner. And the theater is rather warm. I believe I will return to our box, Winifred.”
“Certainly, you should sit down.”
She drew a steadying breath as they moved along the corridor, telling herself she had no right to feel such hurt. She had no real claim to Marcus. It was just that she had begun to trust him, to open her heart to him. You started to believe he was a man you could love.
She should have known his portrayal of the ideal suitor was too perfect to be real.
But seeing Marcus with his former mistress was a cold awakening to reality. Her father had indulged in countless affairs after marriage, showering his affection on his mistresses, leaving her mother to languish alone in humiliation and resentment and heartbreak, pining after an unfaithful man who could never love her. How could she trust that Marcus would be any different if she wed him?
Arabella felt the hot sting of tears burn her eyes. To think that she had actually attempted to picture herself as his wife. Clearly she had been indulging in pipe dreams. Marriage between them would never work out. She was foolish to have thought it might.
She was an even worse fool to let herself become so vulnerable to hurt after her first wretched experience with love. She had let her emotions become too involved with Marcus, obviously. If she didn’t take care, she could end up making the same mistake all over again.
Arabella forced herself to swallow the ache in her throat. At least now there was no longer any danger of her falling in love with Marcus. Her resistance to him had been slipping day by day, softened by his seductive charm and his generosity toward her sisters. But she wouldn’t allow it to weaken any further.
Their wager would be over in less than a week. She had only to survive until next Monday and then she could declare her independence from him. Meanwhile, she had to pretend to be unaffected by this new revelation about him.
Her thoughts were so distracted that she nearly ran into Fanny Irwin, who was returning to her own box with her gentleman patron in tow.
“Do forgive me, Fanny,” Arabella murmured. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
Fanny surveyed her in concern. “Is something amiss, Arabella?”
She returned a strained smile. “No, I was just wool-gathering. It is so good to see you again, Fanny dear.”
Her concern evidently allayed, Fanny cast a glance farther down the corridor and then lowered her voice. “We shouldn’t be seen speaking together in public, Arabella. Your blue-blooded friends will see you.”
Arabella followed her gaze to glimpse Marcus’s aunt, Lady Beldon, standing at the door to their box, observing her encounter with Fanny with obvious disapproval.
“It is no matter,” Arabella replied. “I have no need to cultivate her ladyship’s good opinion.”
“But what about-”
“I will write to you tomorrow, Fanny. Winifred,” she called over her shoulder. “You remember my good friend, Miss Irwin.”
Smiling, Winifred offered a polite greeting. They spoke for a brief moment before Arabella continued on her way. By the time she entered Marcus’s box to find his aunt already seated, she was calmer and thinking more rationally, yet she couldn’t help reflecting on how right Fanny had been to warn her against succumbing to the earl’s seductive advances.
As she settled next to Winifred, though, she realized that Lady Beldon was addressing her. “You do realize, Miss Loring, that it is not proper for a lady to acknowledge a female of that stamp?”
Eleanor entered the box just then and resumed her seat between her aunt and Arabella. “A female of what stamp, Aunt?”
Lady Beldon sniffed. “Miss Loring knows whom I mean.”
At the viscountess’s censorious tone, Arabella stiffened. Earlier this evening, Lady Beldon had readily acknowledged the promiscuous Lady Eberly. It seemed highly unfair to forgive such wantonness in a married lady while condemning fallen women like Fanny.
But Arabella struggled to keep her tone polite when she replied, “Miss Irwin is a childhood friend, my lady. We grew up together and were as close as sisters.”