"What choice did you have?" Arabella challenged with growing passion. "If you had refused to participate, would that have saved the village? Or would it simply have meant that someone else carried out the relocation with less care for the villagers' welfare?"
Devon stared at her with obvious surprise, as though he had not considered such possibilities before. "Perhaps... but that does not absolve me of responsibility for my choices."
"No," Arabella agreed softly. "But it does suggest that your guilt, whilst understandable, may be somewhat disproportionate to your actual culpability."
"You think me too harsh in my self-judgment?" Devon asked with genuine curiosity.
"I think you are a man who has spent years punishing himself for being human," Arabella replied with quiet conviction. "For making decisions based on incomplete information and flawed assumptions, for failing to anticipate consequences that no reasonable person could have foreseen."
Devon was silent for a long moment, studying her face withthe sort of intensity that made her feel as though he could see straight through to her soul.
"How is it," he asked finally, "that you can speak with such certainty about matters of moral responsibility? Have you never made choices that haunted you, have you ever acted in ways that caused harm despite your best intentions?"
The question struck closer to home than he could possibly know, and Arabella felt her cheeks warm with guilty knowledge of her own secrets.
"We all make mistakes," she said carefully. "The question is whether we allow those mistakes to define us or whether we learn from them and strive to do better."
That moment was enough to melt Devon's heart completely. Without a second thought, he gently pulled Arabella into his arms and pressed a tender kiss upon her lips. It was a soft, heartfelt kiss, one filled with love and deep appreciation, that left both of them yearning for more. The space before the fireplace became their sanctuary, an intimate haven where they could simply be together. As the night unfolded, they shared a connection so profound and beautiful that Arabella could have never dreamed of, forging a bond that felt truly extraordinary. He kissed her whole body while speaking words of love and that made Arabella all the more ready for him. When his manhood was inside her, she felt heat coursing through her whole body and it was so intense that she could not keep herself from making sounds of fulfillment and satisfaction. Soon Devon followed and they both reached their peak together, yet neither of them wanting to stop. Neither of them wanting this night to end.
The rest of the night was spent in whispered conversations and growing tension and attraction.
Chapter 12
"Good heavens, Arabella, you must come and see this! I can scarcely believe my eyes!"
Livia's excited voice carried across the morning room where Arabella sat attempting to focus on her correspondence, though her thoughts kept drifting to the previous evening's revelations in the library. The memory of Devon's arms around her, of his whispered admission of fear and longing, made concentration on mundane matters nearly impossible.
She looked up to find Livia standing by the window, holding what appeared to be several calling cards and invitations, her face bright with an excitement that transformed her delicate features entirely.
"What has captured your attention so thoroughly?" Arabella asked with genuine curiosity, setting aside her quill pen with relief at the interruption to her wandering thoughts.
"Invitations!" Livia exclaimed, moving toward her with quick, graceful steps. "So many invitations I can barely hold them all. Lady Huxley wishes me to attend her daughter's musical evening, Mrs. Worthington requests the pleasure of my company at her literary salon, and—oh, this is the most wonderful of all—Lady Jersey herself has sent a voucher for Almack's!"
The significance of this last achievement was not lost on Arabella, who understood that securing the approval of one ofAlmack's patronesses represented the pinnacle of social success for any young lady making her debut.
"How marvelous," she said with genuine warmth, rising from her chair to examine the elegant cards Livia thrust toward her. "You have clearly made a most favourable impression during your recent appearances in society."
Indeed, the past week had seen a remarkable transformation in Devon's shy sister. Since their conversation about courage and authenticity, Livia had begun to venture forth into social gatherings with increasing confidence, her natural sweetness and intelligence quickly winning over even the most discerning hostesses.
"I can hardly believe it myself," Livia confessed, sinking into the chair beside Arabella with obvious delight. "Three weeks ago, the very thought of entering a ballroom filled me with terror. Now I find myself actually looking forward to such events."
"Your success is entirely your own doing," Arabella assured her with quiet pride. "You have discovered what I always suspected. That your genuine nature is far more appealing than any artificial accomplishment could ever be."
Livia's expression grew thoughtful as she studied the invitations spread across the table between them. "Do you truly think so? Sometimes I fear that people are merely being kind because of Devon's influence rather than any merit of my own."
"Nonsense," Arabella said firmly. "Your brother's consequence might secure you initial introductions, but itcannot manufacture genuine affection or respect. The warmth with which you have been received speaks entirely to your own character."
"You are too generous," Livia protested, though her pleased smile suggested she was beginning to believe in her own social success. "However, I confess I owe much of my newfound confidence to your guidance. You have taught me that authenticity is far more valuable than perfection."
The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Mrs. Henderson, who appeared in the doorway with her usual composed efficiency despite the early hour.
"Begging your pardon, Lady Livia, Miss Greystone, but His Grace requests both ladies' presence in his study when convenient. He wishes to discuss the social calendar for the coming week."
Arabella felt her pulse quicken at the prospect of seeing Devon again, particularly after their emotionally charged encounter the previous evening. How would he behave toward her in Livia's presence? Would he maintain the careful distance he had been attempting to preserve, or would some hint of their newfound intimacy betray itself in his manner?
"Of course," Livia replied cheerfully, gathering her invitations with obvious eagerness to share her triumph with her beloved brother. "Come, Arabella, let us go and show Devon how wonderfully things are progressing."
As they made their way through the elegant corridors toward Devon's private domain, Arabella found herself bothanticipating and dreading the coming encounter. The memory of his hands cupping her face, of his whispered confession that he was afraid to want her so desperately, sent heat flooding through her veins despite her determination to maintain proper composure.
