The charged silence that fell between them was broken only by the soft clink of china and the rustle of newsprint, each sound seeming unnaturally loud in the oppressive atmosphere. Arabella found herself acutely aware of every detail, the way the morning light caught the strong line of Devon's jaw, the elegant movement of his fingers as he turned the pages of the newspaper, the subtle scent of sandalwood and bergamot that seemed to cling to his skin.
She had been a fool to think that one night of passion might change anything between them. If anything, their intimate encounter had only served to emphasize the vast gulf that separated them. He, a wealthy duke with the freedom to take his pleasure where he chose and she, a fallen woman dependent upon his charity for her very existence.
"The weather appears promising for Lady Livia's riding lesson," she observed with desperate brightness, grasping for any neutral topic that might ease the suffocating tension.
"Indeed," Devon replied without looking up from his paper. "Though I fear she may need to postpone such activities. A slight indisposition, nothing serious, but perhaps best to remain indoors today."
Before Arabella could inquire about Livia's health, the young lady herself appeared in the doorway, her face bright with morning energy despite the early hour. She wore a riding habit of deep blue velvet that complemented her ethereal beauty, and her obvious excitement about the planned excursion made the lie of her supposed illness immediately apparent.
"Good morning, Devon, Arabella!" she called cheerfully,moving to kiss her brother's cheek with unconscious affection. "I can barely contain my eagerness for our ride in Hyde Park. The morning is absolutely perfect, and I have been practicing my seat just as you instructed..."
She broke off abruptly as she noticed the arctic atmosphere between Arabella and her brother, her animated expression faltering with obvious confusion.
"Is something amiss?" she asked hesitantly, glancing between them with growing concern. "You both appear rather... subdued this morning."
"Not at all, dearest," Devon said with forced warmth, though his smile did not reach his eyes. "Miss Greystone and I were merely discussing the day's arrangements. I fear your riding lesson must be postponed because estate matters require my immediate attention."
Livia's face fell with disappointment, though she attempted to hide her dejection with admirable grace. "Of course, Devon. Business must always take precedence. Perhaps tomorrow?"
"Perhaps," Devon agreed noncommittally, finally raising his gaze to meet Arabella's across the table with an expression that made her pulse quicken again.
"I should be happy to accompany Lady Livia on a walk through the gardens instead," Arabella offered quickly, eager to escape the suffocating tension of Devon's presence. "The morning air would be beneficial, and we might continue our lessons in deportment amongst more natural surroundings."
"An excellent suggestion," Devon said with obvious relief. "I am certain you ladies will find sufficient entertainment in such pursuits."
The dismissive tone stung more than Arabella cared to admit, and she felt her carefully maintained composure begin to crack under the weight of his studied indifference.
"Indeed, Your Grace," she said with icy politeness. "We shall endeavour not to overtax ourselves with such frivolous activities."
Devon's eyes flashed with something that might have been guilt or anger, but before he could respond, Livia intervened with the sort of desperate cheerfulness that suggested she was beginning to understand that whatever had transpired between her brother and her companion was far more serious than a simple disagreement about daily schedules.
"A walk sounds delightful," she said with forced brightness. "And perhaps afterward, Arabella might help me select fabrics for my new morning gowns? The samples arrived yesterday from Madame Celeste, and I confess myself quite overwhelmed by the choices."
"Of course," Arabella agreed, grateful for any distraction from Devon's brooding presence. "I should be delighted to offer whatever guidance you require."
As the two women prepared to take their leave, Devon's voice stopped them at the door with a formality that made Arabella's heart clench with renewed pain.
"Miss Greystone, if I might have a word with you later today? There are certain household matters that require discussion."
The careful phrasing fooled no one, least of all Arabella, who recognized the underlying command despite his polite delivery. "Certainly, Your Grace. At your convenience."
"Excellent. Shall we say three o'clock in my study?"
The mention of his private sanctuary, the very room where he had claimed her innocence with such devastating thoroughness, sent heat flooding through Arabella's cheeks.
"Three o'clock," she agreed with as much dignity as she could muster.
As they left the breakfast room, Livia waited until they were well out of her brother's hearing before turning to Arabella with obvious concern.
"Forgive my impertinence," she said quietly, "but something has clearly transpired between Devon and you. The atmosphere at breakfast was charged, to say the least."
Arabella felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment and shame. Had their passionate encounter been so obvious that even innocent Livia could detect the changed dynamic between them?
"I fear you are mistaken," she said carefully. "His Grace and I merely had a difference of opinion regarding certain household arrangements. Nothing more."
Livia's expression suggested she was far from convinced by this explanation, but her natural delicacy prevented her from pressing for details that were clearly painful to discuss.
"Of course," she said gently. "Though I hope you will not allow my brother's occasionally difficult temperament to distress you unduly. He has been under considerable strain lately, what with Parliament convening and various estate matters requiring his attention."
