LITMIR.BIZ

      Arabella stopped. She was chattering on as if she had known Lord Westray for years, telling him details he did not need to know. That he most likely did not want to hear. After all, he did not know George, did not love him as she did. Hot tears stung her eyes. She turned away, hunting for her handkerchief.

      ‘I beg your pardon.’ Her voice caught on a sob. ‘I did not mean to b-bore you.’

      He put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Arabella.’ His voice was low, quiet. ‘You could never bore me.’

      She had been struggling alone with her grief for months and it was such a comfort to have him there, strong, protective. Somehow, it lessened the pain of her bereavement.

      A footman was hurrying towards them and Arabella quickly pulled away from Randolph, flapping one hand at him.

      ‘I shall be well, my lord, if you give me a moment. I pray you, go and see what your servant wants.’

      He walked away and she wiped her eyes. A few deep breaths were all that was required to banish her tears, which surprised her, until she remembered how she had wept when George died. The time for such displays of grief was over. She had set herself a task and must concentrate on that. She gave her eyes a final wipe, blew her nose, and when she heard the Earl’s firm step approaching her again, she was ready to turn and look at him. He was smiling.

      ‘There is no need to worry that our sudden departure last night offended Lady Meon. She is even now in the drawing room!’

      ‘Excellent news, my lord.’

      She managed an answering smile and he held out his arm. As they turned to make their way back to the house, Arabella noticed a figure on the upper terrace.

      She was surprised into a little laugh. ‘I believe Lady Meon is coming to find us.’

      Even as she uttered the words the lady waved and ran lightly down the stone steps.

      ‘I hope you do not mind my coming outside,’ she called to them as she reached the next set of steps. ‘I should very much like to see the gardens, if I may join you?’

      ‘To see the gardens, at this season?’

      Randolph’s muttered response made Arabella want to giggle, but she stifled it.

      She waved to their visitor and called out politely, ‘Of course, madam. We should be delighted to have your company.’

      The lady approached, her fur-lined tippet bouncing around her shoulders as she descended the last flight of steps.

      ‘I came to ask after your health, Lady Westray. How relieved I am to see that you have fully recovered from last night’s little shock.’

      ‘Thank you. I am perfectly well now.’

      It was the first time Arabella had seen the lady out of doors without the face veil she invariably wore when riding. At all their other encounters during daylight hours, Lady Meon had been indoors and at pains to sit with her back to the window. Arabella thought now that candlelight was much kinder to a countenance well past the first bloom of youth. It concealed the lines and faint sagging of the skin that were all too apparent in the pale sunlight.