feast better suited to a larger gathering and a celebration. Tomorrow Arabella would speak to cook about extravagance. It was not necessary to dine so lavishly when it was just herself and Farnsworth sitting down to dinner. She reached for her wineglass, startled to see her hand shaking. Just contemplating bringing order and good sense to Farnsworth’s homes unsettled her.
Without Cecily to talk to, Arabella was not certain what she would do with herself tonight in the drawing room. Since she’d come up to Town, she had concentrated on what Cecily needed. Practice at the pianoforte, dissecting the peerage to determine familial connections of those they met. During the day, they went out—shopping for new gloves, visiting the modiste, accepting invitations to parties and fetes that would show the girl off to advantage. Farnsworth had insisted they decline tonight’s round of amusements given Cecily’s embarrassing elopement, and she had to agree with his decision. If they went out without Cecily in their ranks, someone would ask of her whereabouts.
Without a pressing task before her, Arabella retreated to the drawing room as Farnsworth had demanded and stopped before a window facing the street. Outside, a steady rain had fallen since midafternoon, cocooning her with her thoughts and worries. Rain would slow Cecily and Lieutenant Ford’s flight to the border, though it might just prevent any pursuit being made by the Fords. She hoped Rothwell had factored bad weather into his calculations. She smiled ruefully. She had completely underestimated that gentleman. He was not the pleasure-obsessed rogue society made him out to be. He believed in love and helping those in need. Not at all what she’d imagined he might feel.
She leaned toward the window and tried to see the façade of his town house far down Half Moon Street, toward the park. If she pressed her nose to the glass, she could just see enough to determine its location. Were the windows lit more brightly than normal tonight? Possibly. Perhaps she was not the only one to eschew the pleasures of Town on a rainy night, or it was more likely Rothwell had his own private entertainment indoors. All she had was Farnsworth and his odd looks.
Dispirited by that thought, Arabella turned from the window and then shrieked. Farnsworth was standing immediately behind her, smiling down at her in that odd way he’d adopted today, another refilled glass in hand. She pressed her fingers to her chest, attempting to recover her calm and control her racing pulse. “Gracious, I did not hear you come in, Farnsworth.”
He did not move back. “Did you not plan to be so artfully displayed when I returned? You must do exactly that tomorrow when Parker calls.”
“Artfully?” She scowled at him for frightening her and babbling nonsense. “Really, Farnsworth, you must moderate your consumption of spirits. They make you imagine any number of ridiculous things.”
“Not so ridiculous.” Farnsworth placed the glass on the nearest table. “We are alike, you and I. We each hesitate to say what is on our minds.”
Arabella had had enough of his moods today. Farnsworth held nothing of his opinions in reserve. She’d learned so much while living beneath his roof to determine she had to do everything she could to avoid continuing the conversation. “I believe I should like to retire early tonight. Excuse me.”
Farnsworth’s hand rose and cupped her face. “I was thinking the same thing. You should be refreshed for when Parker extends his offer of marriage tomorrow.”
It took a moment to make sense of Farnsworth’s words, but when she did, she staggered back against the window. “You must be mistaken.”
“Not at all.” He held up a scrap of paper for her to see. “It is all arranged. Since Cecily has eloped, your days as a chaperone are done. You shall marry Parker by special license tomorrow and any embarrassment to the family will largely be erased by the
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