Page 41 of Lady Arabella’s Reluctant Hero

She left him alone in the drawing room. A few minutes later, the door opened and Arabella came in wearing a pale green morning dress that somehow made her dark hair gleam and her skin glow.

No, he supposed that had nothing to do with the gown. Arabella would be this stunning wrapped in a curtain.

"Lord Alderton," she said with a small smile.

John, he wanted to correct. Wasn't Lord Alderton too formal by far? Yes, and he'd tell her so.

After he gave the speech he'd rehearsed. "Lady Arabella," he started.

Then he paused. The speech had sounded reasonable at three in the morning. However, in the morning light of the duchess's drawing room, every word he'd planned to say seemed utterly inadequate.

But it still needed to be said.

"Last night," he started. "I want you to know that what happened was not—I did not take it lightly."

She looked at him and her expression was polite but unreadable.

"You were almost killed. And I— In the moment—" He stopped, started again. "My intentions are not casual, Arabella. I am not the sort of man who—who takes advantage. I want to protect you. I want you to know you are not alone in this."

The silence that followed was stifling. She set down her teacup with careful movements.

"Lord Alderton, you are a good man. A very good man. And last night was frightening for us both." She gave him a small smile that could only be described as…indulgent. "But you do not need to make promises on the strength of a moment."

He stared at her as his mind attempted to keep up. Was she…

What was she saying?

She came to her feet and crossed toward him, her tone a little more brisk now. "We have been playing a part, you and I, and we have played it well. But the Season is ending. You have a daughter who needs you. A life to return to." She smoothed her skirt. "Everyone in London knows you are looking for a good woman to be your wife and a mother to your daughter, and⁠—"

She stopped right in front of him, her smile so placid, it seemed to mock his turbulent emotions. "That is not me," she finished quietly. "We both know it is not me."

He found himself staring at her for far too long. "You are saying…"

She reached out and rested her gloved hand on his arm, so lightly he barely felt it. "There is no need to turn one frightening evening into something it was not."

A silence fell. It stretched much too long.

"I see," he finally said.

In fact, he did not see. His mind felt muddied and his vision blurred. He could see nothing beyond her placid smile as her words finally registered.

She knew he was looking for a wife. For a mother for Lucy. And that…

That was not her.

He blinked. Of course it wasn't. He'd only spoken of protection and promises because it was the right thing to do.

"Yes, I see," he heard himself say again. "You are quite right. Forgive me."

She shook her head, her smile broadening. "There is nothing to forgive."

The door opened and the duchess swept back in. "I am afraid that we have a problem."

The stifling moment was broken. Arabella looked to the duchess, and he did the same.

"The carriage that nearly struck you last evening was hired from a livery stable in Cheapside, paid for in cash, and returned before midnight. The driver gave a false name." The duchess met Arabella's gaze evenly. "It was deliberate."

Arabella's eyes grew wide and John instinctively reached out to steady her.