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“I am worth more than that,” Arabella said with as much dignity as she could muster, and was relieved when Caroline relaxed into a grin.
“You are worth the world and more,” she said quietly. “I care for you too, Bell. That’s why I’m nervous. But…I’m willing. If you want to see how things will unfold, then I will follow along with you.”
They were back on the promenade now, and among their party. Caroline joined Betsy and Susan, laughing over some story they were telling Lady Margaret, and Arabella hung back for a moment.
It was overwhelming, saying how one felt.
But when she thought about the reward…well. It seemed well worth the risk of reaching so high.
Arabella turned toward the row of vendors who lined the promenade where it abutted the beach, intending to purchase a tray of sweets for the group, and smacked her face into Mr. Taylor’s shoulder. She stumbled, and he hoisted her up by his stalwart arms.
“I do beg your pardon, Miss Seton! You are such a slip of a thing, I hardly saw you. My most sincere apologies.”
She squinted up at him as she adjusted her spectacles. This was flummery, she was sure of it. She may be short, but she knew perfectly well she was judged as no slip. At least he was kinder about her stumble than James would have been, so it was a point in his favor. “The fault was my own, sir. I daresay you overlooked me in your haste to pursue Miss Reeve—a common occurrence these days.”
That surprised a laugh out of him. “I did hope to stroll for a moment or two with your party,” Mr. Taylor admitted.
Caroline had told her that she no longer harbored any suspicion about Mr. Taylor, but Arabella wasn’t so sure.
She placed a hand on his arm and veered him away from Caroline, attempting something akin to a simper. “Are you missing the belles of London? I am sure the capital has plenty of lovely ladies.”
“Ah, but the ladies in present company are incomparable,” he said.
“Do tell me how you are enjoying Inverley?”
“I like it very well. It has much to recommend it.”
She didn’t miss how he gazed at Caroline as he spoke.
“Yes, the air is considered very fine here. Have you gone bathing yet?”
“I have and liked it exceedingly. Very bracing to be in the water first thing in the morning before one has broken one’s fast, is it not?”
She would have to advise Caroline to avoid the shores at dawn. “I hear you have been spending time with young Jacob Reeve. How is he taking to things?”
“He needs some town bronze, but I am happy to take him under my wing. He’s a fine young man.”
Perhaps Mr. Taylor was what he appeared to be—a charming gentleman enjoying his new connections, and who was perhaps a little too interested in Caroline for her liking.
The thought was depressing.
“Miss Reeve is out of your reach,” she told him, deciding to be frank.
He blinked. “I wasn’t aware that she had expressed any particular preferences. But for what it is worth, I agree with you. Miss Reeve is a jewel, and far above my touch.”
She wished she felt reassured.
* * *
When Arabella arrived home, she was surprised to see Mr. Worthington taking tea with Matthew and Rachel. She gawked from the doorway of the parlor, one glove still on and the other dangling from her hand.
“Arabella, do come in,” Rachel urged her, a fresh teacup already in her hand. “I knew you wouldn’t be too long. Didn’t I tell you so, Mr. Worthington? I am so glad you agreed to wait, sir.”
Arabella slowly removed her other glove and tucked them both in her reticule. She tried to collect her thoughts as she worked the knot out of the bow of her bonnet.
She sat down next to Matthew and accepted the cup of tea from Rachel. “It is very nice to see you again, Mr. Worthington.”
It wasn’t quite the truth. She didn’t mind seeing him, but she decidedly did not enjoy seeing him in her home with her family.
