Page 71 of Lady Arabella’s Reluctant Hero

But the eyes looking back at him were so steady, so calm, so completely removed from everything that had passed between them that the words died in his throat.

How did you fight this? How did you argue with someone who had simply…left? She was standing right in front of him, and she was already gone.

"I've written to the duchess," she continued. "Between her people and my father's household, I shall be perfectly safe."

"This is not about safety," he said.

"Then what is it about, Lord Alderton?"

Lord Alderton. Again. Like a door closing.

He released her arms and forced himself to take a step back. The daydreams he'd been harboring these past few days were still there in his mind, taunting him. Arabella in his home, in his and Lucy's life…

Oddly enough, his mind caught on the words she'd told him in the duchess's drawing room weeks ago after that first fateful kiss.

That is not me. We both know it is not me.

Suddenly the room seemed to tilt. He found himself replaying every conversation, every stolen glance. Had he been wrong all along? Had he been conjuring the perfect match where there never had been one?

He did not know. For the life of him, he could not say what was real and what he'd imagined. Because right now, staring into those lifeless eyes⁠—

It was impossible to imagine this was the same woman who'd kissed him with such passion.

"I hope you will be happy," he heard himself say. "With Edgmond."

The next hours were the worst he had known since Eleanor died. He shut himself in his study because he could not face the house. He could not face Clarissa and Kit and act as though everything was fine. And Lucy…

How was he to explain to Lucy?

She would be heartbroken when Arabella left. And he could not save her from that any more than he'd been able to spare himself this crushing pain.

Arabella left early the next morning. She and Thea, along with their maids. They left before most had risen, not pausing to say their farewells.

He supposed Thea might have done so the night before, but Arabella had stayed in her room, avoiding him.

Avoiding Lucy.

He heard the carriage on the gravel from his desk in the study. It was where he'd been most of the night, unable to sleep.

An hour later, Lucy found him. She pushed the door open and stood there in her morning dress, her face white, her eyes blazing.

"Where is she?" she demanded.

He got to his feet. "Lucy⁠—"

"Where is Lady Arabella?"

He crossed to her, sinking down so he could face her. "She has returned to London. Her father⁠—"

"Go after her."

He stared at his daughter. "Lucy, I cannot simply —"

"She's lying." Lucy's voice cracked but her chin was up. "You know she's lying, Papa.”

“Her father—” he started. “Lord Edgmond⁠—”

“She doesn't want to marry Lord Edgmond. She doesn't even like Lord Edgmond. She told me he was the most boring man in all of London."