Page 17 of A Scandal for the Beastly Earl

"The one they call the Beast?"

"The very same."

The Cook lowered her rolling pin slowly. "Well then. I suppose I'd better make something special. We can't have his lordship thinking we don't know how to properly feed a beast."

Despite everything, Arabella found herself smiling.

“But how can I prepare a proper wedding breakfast on three days' notice?”

Chapter 5

The next three days passed in a blur of frantic preparation and barely controlled panic. True to his word, Lord Blackthorn had procured a special license with remarkable efficiency. He called each day, briefly, to discuss practical matters; the time of the ceremony, the name of his solicitor, the arrangements for moving her belongings to Blackthorn Manor.

They were the conversations of strangers preparing to share a life, polite and careful and utterly devoid of warmth.

"Your friend Miss Finch may attend, of course," he said on the second day, standing in their morning room like a dark cloud in their sunny space.

"That's kind of you."

"It's practical. You'll want someone familiar there."

Everything, it seemed, was practical with Lord Blackthorn. Their marriage, their arrangements, probably their entire future. Arabella wondered if he'd schedule their conversations by appointment; Tuesdays and Thursdays for discussion of household matters, perhaps a monthly review of their cordial partnership.

"I've arranged for the rose suite to be prepared for you," he continued, consulting a small notebook he'd produced from his pocket. "It's in the east wing, well away from my chambers in the west. You'll have privacy."

"How... practical," she said, unable to keep a slight edge from her voice.

He looked up from his notebook. "You're angry."

"I'm not angry."

"You say 'practical' as if it were an insult."

"Do I? How impractical of me."

His jaw tightened. "Lady Arabella..."

"It's fine," she interrupted. "Truly. I appreciate the separate wings. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you with my presence."

"That's not..." He stopped, running a hand through his dark hair in the first gesture of frustration she'd seen from him. "I'm trying to honour your conditions."

"And you're doing so admirably. Really, Lord Blackthorn, you've thought of everything. Separate wings, separate lives, separate everything except the legal technicality of marriage."

"Is that not what you wanted?"

"It's exactly what I asked for," she agreed. "Which makes me wonder why I feel so... unsettled."

He was quiet for a moment, studying her with those dark eyes. "Second thoughts?"

"Third and fourth thoughts, actually. But I've given my word."

"Words can be taken back. If you've changed your mind..."

"Have you?" she countered. "Changed your mind?"

"No."

The simple word fell between them like a stone into still water. Arabella wondered what ripples it might cause.