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“That works rather nicely, actually, doesn’t it?” she said.
“I thought you might like that.”
Like an exhausted lamb, Sculthorpe had stopped struggling under Guy’s boot.
“I say, that’s a fine-looking boot you have,” she said to Guy.
“They’re very comfortable.”
“I’m glad to hear it. A man needs a pair of comfortable boots.”
In the engulfing silence, Arabella could hear everyone’s confusion, but her world consisted of nothing but a pair of summer-like eyes.
“You lied,” he said.
“Yes. Lying is one of my more notable accomplishments, along with archery and needlework.”
Mama stepped forward and put her hand on Arabella’s arm. “Thank you, Lord Hardbury, but you have impressed us long enough. You may assist Lord Sculthorpe to leave my house.”
“But Lady Belinda, this is outrageous,” spluttered Sir Walter. “His lordship is here as my guest.”
“Then you may leave too, Sir Walter. Lord Hardbury, please escort Lord Sculthorpe outside. If he is unable to find his way to his horse, perhaps you would be so kind as to show him.”
Guy hauled Sculthorpe to his feet. “Your wish is my command, my lady. My only concern is that in escorting him, I might trip and accidentally plant my fist in his face.”
“There are many holes and stones upon which a man may trip,” she returned blandly. “I do hope you take care, but I understand if that is not the case.”
Guy released Sculthorpe, who took his time adjusting his sleeves and wiping his face.
“Let me explain again, Lord Sculthorpe,” Arabella said. “If you ever try to marry any woman, I will stand before the Chancellor or the Chief Lord Justice or the journalists or on a soapbox in Hyde Park, to tell the world of your violence.”
Sir Walter broke in. “No one will believe that of such a noble man.”
“Perhaps they’ll believe the testimony of my mother and my maid, who saw the marks left on my body.”
“I believe her,” Guy said.
“Good, because it is true,” said Mama. “Lord Sculthorpe, I advise you to leave, before I run out of patience and shoot you myself.”
* * *
Sculthorpe would not be hurried,even though Guy occasionally shoved his shoulder, furious at him for harming Arabella. And why the hell had she not justtoldhim? That bruise! He had asked her and she had lied and at any bloody moment she could have bloody well said.
“Itwasyou, wasn’t it?” Sculthorpe said. “It’s the obvious explanation. I knew it had to be you, when I heard of the engagement. That’s why I came back.”
“You should never have shown your face here again.”
“You self-righteous hypocrite!” Sculthorpe whirled to a stop, square features hard as he advanced one threatening step. “You’re the villain here, Hardbury, not me. I did nothing wrong.”
Guy shoved him. “You kicked her! You bloody—”
“I was good to her and she betrayed me! With you! She wasmine.”
Sculthorpe had wanted to claim Arabella, she had said. Guy shook his head, stepped away before he was tempted into more violence. “You never even made an effort to know her.”
“We understood each other perfectly.” Sculthorpe’s expression was bitter as he smoothed out his lapels. “She knew and shared my desires. She was mine and you stole her.”
“Arabella makes her own choices.”
