Page 23 of Lady Arabella’s Reluctant Hero

Arabella picked up the cup. It was warm in her hand and only then did she realize how cold her fingers were. She lifted the cup to her lips and managed a sip, and then another under the duchess's watchful stare.

A silence lingered, but no one seemed to expect her to fill it. Indeed, the duchess looked content to sit in silence, and Lord Alderton seemed preoccupied with his thoughts.

She set the cup back in the saucer, her glance sliding toward Lord Alderton. He too was watching her, and she fought the urge to fidget.

But she did risk a glance at the mirror.

Oh dear. Her hair had come half undone, no doubt when she'd taken off her bonnet. Or rather, when Lord Alderton had removed it.

She raised her hands now to tidy it, gathering the loose strands and lifting them back into the pins on the crown of her head. Her hands froze when an odd sound came from across the room.

It had come from Lord Alderton. He was on his feet, crossing toward her, his eyes fixed on her neck.

She lowered her hands slowly as he stopped in front of her chair.

His hand came up toward her throat.

She flinched. Her shoulders jerked and her chin pulled away before she even realized what she was doing.

Lord Alderton froze. But after a moment his fingers came back slowly, moving over her neck with the lightest touch she had ever felt.

He brushed the remaining loose hair back from one side of her neck. For a moment, Arabella forgot how to breathe. He was so very close, and the expression he wore was one she'd never seen before, least of all on him.

His features were too blank, his body too tense. And when his eyes came back to hers, they were⁠—

Oh dear.

Her breath caught.

His eyes burned with rage. "Who."

His voice was very low.

She wet her lips. "Lord Alderton⁠—"

"Who did this to you."

She could not speak.

The duchess was on her feet, though Arabella had not seen her stand. She crossed to them and put a hand very gently on Arabella's chin, tilted her head, and looked at her neck.

The duchess's lips thinned. And oddly enough, it was only then that Arabella's mind began to function.

Her neck. Where Pierce had gripped her and squeezed.

Tears stung the back of her eyes the moment she realized that they knew. That he knew. She couldn't bring herself to meet Lord Alderton's glare, even though she knew full well his anger was not meant for her.

"Lord Alderton." The duchess's voice was perfectly even. "Thank you for escorting Lady Arabella. You may go home."

He frowned down at Arabella, clearly ready to argue. "I⁠—"

"You may go home." The duchess spoke over him, her tone not one to be argued with. "We shall see you in the morning."

Lord Alderton's hand finally dropped from her neck, and Arabella let out a rush of air.

But he continued to frown down at Arabella even as he spoke to the duchess. "Your Grace, I cannot⁠—"

"At eleven o'clock. Tomorrow." The duchess also released Arabella's chin and turned to face him. "Lord Alderton. Look at me, please."