The Viscount's Veiled Lady (Whitby Weddings 3) - Page 81

‘Well, it’s happened to me twice! I’d be a fool to risk it again.’

‘But maybe Arthur wasn’t rejecting you. You could just let him explain.’

‘Why?’ She regarded her sister suspiciously. ‘Has he explained to you?’

‘Not exactly. All he said was that he’d made a terrible mistake and he wanted a chance to win you back. That’s all, a chance, but he sounded sincere to me. Anyway, we’re here now.’

Frances took a deep breath as the ivy-clad turrets of Amberton Castle rose up from the valley below them. It was truly a spectacular place, the grey stone glowing pale pink in the afternoon sunshine, as if it really had jumped straight out of a fairy tale.

‘Off you go, then.’ Lydia drew the trap to a halt in the courtyard. ‘He’s waiting.’

Frances looked towards the house with trepidation. Lydia was right. There he was, waiting under the archway of the imposing front porch with his hands clasped behind his back, the same way he’d stood in her parents’ parlour on the morning they’d come back from Amberton Castle, the morning after the night when he’d undressed her... The memory made her turn away again, the emotions so raw they felt like an open wound.

‘Take me home.’ She gritted her teeth. ‘Whatever he has to say, I don’t want to hear it.’

‘Well, it’s up to you, but Georgie and I aren’t going anywhere until we’ve had our picnic.’ Lydia nudged her son conspiratorially and then threw a friendly wave in Arthur’s direction. ‘But I’d take pity on him if I were you. He’s not Leo and he’s not in love with me. Besides, the poor man has been positively miserable for the past month.’

‘How would you know?’

‘By the rings around his eyes for a start. Not to mention the constant frowning. I do so hate to see a handsome man spoil himself, but I’m afraid you’re the only one who can do anything about it. Honestly...’ Lydia raised a hand to her head dramatically ‘...all this tension is enough to make me feel dizzy again. If I don’t eat something soon...’

‘All right!’ Frances glared ferociously as she jumped down from the trap. ‘But we’ll talk about this later!’

‘I’m sure we will. Only be sure to include Mama in your harangue. She’s in on the plot, too.’

‘You mean you’re both in this together?’

‘Why do you think she didn’t object to our outing? Even Papa thought it was a good idea. Of course, Arthur did say some very affecting things about not being able to live without you and all that kind of thing. I suppose that helped win them over. Now, we’ll see you in an hour.’

‘An hour?’

Frances opened her mouth to argue some more, but the trap was already moving away, leaving her alone with Arthur.

Chapter Twenty-Six

‘Frances.’ The way he said her name sent an all-too-familiar, all-too-unwelcome frisson of excitement racing down her spine. ‘Thank you for coming.’

‘I wasn’t given much choice. For the record, I was tricked.’ She turned around, making a point of glaring at him. ‘Lydia said you wanted to see me. Why?’

‘Because I want to show you something. Come with me.’

He didn’t wait for an answer, though it hadn’t sounded much like a question either, turning on his heel and leading the way inside the house. Frances threw one last look after the departing trap and then followed reluctantly behind, trailing slowly through the great hall and into the drawing room, stopping short in the doorway as he took a seat by the fireplace. Not that she ought to be surprised, she told herself resentfully. He’d told her enough times that he wasn’t a gentleman, but still, sitting down first, without so much as offering her a chair, was downright rude.

‘I wanted to show you this.’

‘You sitting in an armchair?’ She didn’t bother to disguise her sarcasm. ‘I’m impressed.’

‘Not just any armchair.’ The muscles of his face looked taut with emotion, his brows drawn together in a line. ‘My father’s.’

‘Oh.’ She couldn’t think of anything to say for a few moments, speechless with surprise. She’d been so wrapped up in her own emotions that she’d forgotten the significance of that particular seat.

‘I’ve sat in it every evening this week. Ever since I moved back here.’

‘You’ve moved back?’ Whatever else she might have expected, it definitely hadn’t been that. ‘What about your farm?’

‘I found a tenant.’

‘But you love it there.’

Tags: Jenni Fletcher Whitby Weddings Romance
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