Page 21 of Lady Arabella’s Reluctant Hero

Another silence fell, but this time it felt less heavy. He turned to look out the window, but then Arabella suddenly said, "I gave my mother a cat once."

He stared at her in surprise.

"I was eight, I think. I had overheard her say she would have liked a pet. She had been ill that winter and had not been out of the house for some weeks. I decided I would find her one."

"Oh no," he murmured.

The corner of her mouth lifted. Twice in three minutes. He was going to remember this carriage ride for some time.

"I found a stray in the mews. He was very large, and I later discovered…infested with fleas."

He clamped his lips shut to stifle a snort of laughter.

Arabella placed one hand on top of the other, her composure returning. "I gave him to my mother for her name day. He scratched up every surface in her parlor, ate the heel of her best slipper, and ruined her favorite silk gown."

His lips twitched with mirth. "Did you get in trouble?"

"By my mother? No." She paused. "She told me it was the best gift she had ever been given."

John stared at her expression, which had grown soft and lost in thought. He did not know what was going on inside his chest, but it was…not unpleasant.

But then she turned to face him as her cheeks pinkened faintly. "I do not know why I told you that."

"I'm glad you did."

The carriage rolled on. She was quiet, but no longer pale, and he let himself believe that whatever had happened in that hotel—and he was increasingly certain something awful had happened in that hotel—it was, for the moment, behind her.

The carriage slowed. Arabella turned her face to the window, and after a moment she turned back to him. "Where are we?"

"At a friend's home." He hesitated only briefly. "A friend who can help."

Her brows drew together in confusion. "I do not have any friends."

She said it the way she had said I cannot go home. The same flat tone of a woman stating a fact.

The statement hurt him more than it ought. But he tried to keep his tone light as he replied, "You do now."

The carriage stopped. He could hear the driver climbing down from the box.

"Lord Alderton," she started slowly.

"Yes?"

"This time—" She stopped abruptly, her cheeks definitely flushed now. "I will not let it happen again. The way it did at the ball." Her voice was very small but the words were even. "I will say that you only came to my aid. I will tell anyone who asks. This time I shall—I shall make certain you do not have to take the blame for⁠—"

"Arabella—"

"I mean it. I'm…" She met his gaze and held it. "I'm sorry."

He had a feeling those words rarely passed her lips, and it gave him pause.

"Lord Alderton, I mean it. I⁠—"

"Come." He opened the carriage door himself and turned back to offer her his hand. "The duchess is waiting."

8

The duchess.