Chapter Eight

I must concede I was mistaken about the earl. He has some redeeming qualities after all.

– Arabella to Fanny

“Roslyn, Lily…whatever are you doing here?” Arabella asked when she found her sisters waiting in the academy’s reception office where she and the headmistress conducted the business of running the school. “You are not scheduled to teach any classes this afternoon.”

“We came to discover how you are faring,” Roslyn replied, a look of concern on her lovely face, “and to see if you need our help. Since we couldn’t very well visit you at home, we thought this would be the best place. Tess told us the alarming news, Arabella-that Lord Danvers actually proposed to you.”

“Yes,” Lily agreed, her expression even more troubled. “How in heaven’s name did that happen, Belle? The earl has only been here for four days and already you are making outrageous wagers with him?”

Had Marcus only been here for four days? Arabella reflected in amazement. It seemed like far longer.

Debating on how much to reveal, she settled in a wing chair opposite her sisters. “Did Tess also tell you the stakes involved? Lord Danvers promised to grant us our legal and financial freedom if I can manage to resist his courtship for a fortnight. The prospect was too enticing to pass up.”

“She told us,” Roslyn said. “And we appreciate the sacrifice you are making for us-”

“But we are worried for you,” Lily interrupted. There was none of the usual laughter in her warm brown eyes. “Tess says his lordship is sinfully handsome and charming.”

And enchanting and irresistible, Arabella thought.

Aloud, she sighed. “Regrettably, he is. But I agreed to give him a fair chance to woo me.”

She proceeded to give her sisters an edited account of what had happened between them the past few days, leaving out entirely Marcus’s lessons in passion.

“This is our opportunity to win emancipation from his guardianship for good,” Arabella concluded.

Lily frowned. “So he doesn’t mean to make us abandon the academy or force us to marry?”

“Not if I can win the wager.”

“Tess said you found him more agreeable than expected,” Roslyn added, “but what sort of man is he?”

Arabella had no ready answer for that. After seeing Marcus yesterday with her pupils, she had to concede that he was someone she could admire and respect. Or so he seemed on the surface. One couldn’t fully judge a person’s character so quickly. And thus far he was acting the ideal suitor in hopes of convincing her he would make the ideal husband.

“He is indeed much more reasonable than his solicitors’ letters led us to believe,” she admitted.

“There is no chance the earl will win your wager, is there?” Lily asked, still worried. “He won’t convince you to accept his proposal? You have always said you wouldn’t risk being miserable in a marriage of convenience, Belle.”

Arabella smiled reassuringly. “You needn’t distress yourself. I haven’t changed my opinion about marriage in the least.”

She might not be able to resist Marcus’s devastating kisses but she had no intention of wedding him. She certainly wouldn’t be so gullible as to let herself fall in love again, and true love was the only thing that could possibly induce her to brave the perils of betrothal and marriage a second time. She was much wiser now, more careful with her heart.

“Do you want us to come home and help you deal with the earl?” Roslyn asked. “We promised Tess we would finish her charity baskets by next week, but your welfare is more important just now.”

“Yes,” Lily seconded. “Perhaps we should come home to support you against the earl.”

“Thank you, but no,” Arabella replied. “I am dealing with him well enough, truly. And contributing those baskets to the war families means so much to Tess.”

She was about to inquire how her sisters were faring when she heard footsteps out in the corridor, then a soft rap on the door. When she bid entrance, the headmistress, Miss Jane Caruthers, entered, followed by a tall, athletic, raven-haired gentleman who was instantly recognizable, even before Jane announced their visitor. “Lord Danvers to see you, Arabella.”

Arabella froze as her gaze connected with a pair of keen blue eyes. It unsettled her that Marcus had shown up uninvited at her school, not merely because she had hoped to keep her sisters safely concealed from him for a while longer until she could be certain of his intentions, but because his presence here now badly flustered her.

She couldn’t help recalling that two hours ago she was lying in his arms, hot and damp and clinging, while he roused cries of pleasure from her. Arabella flushed at the memory, still feeling the warmth and strength of his hands on her skin, the eroticism of his kisses.

And Marcus, blast him, was clearly remembering too, she realized as their gazes locked for an instant. The heat in his eyes raised her temperature; the intensity of his look made her feel as if he’d put his wonderful hands on her, his sensual, sinful mouth…

Chiding herself, Arabella rose to her feet, while Lily murmured, “Speak of the devil.”

“Oh, were you discussing me?” Marcus said blandly, turning his attention to the younger sisters. “You must be my lovely missing wards.”

As Jane bowed herself out and shut the door behind her, Arabella stepped forward protectively. Knowing there was no choice, however, she made the introductions.

When she was done, Marcus bowed and treated her sisters to the full force of his devastating smile. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last, ladies.”

Roslyn blinked at the sight, while Lily narrowed her eyes. “We cannot say the same, my lord. We would much prefer that you return to London and leave us alone.”

“What my sister means, my lord,” Roslyn said more politely, “is that we believe your guardianship to be unnecessary.”

“I know you do. But surely you will allow me the chance to prove I’m not the villain you think me.”

Rather than succumb to his blatant male appeal, however, Lily determinedly returned his gaze. “You must admit that your actions have been rather villainous thus far. Your solicitors said you intend to find proper husbands for us.”

“That was before I came to understand your particular circumstances,” he replied mildly.

“It would be extremely unfair to make us give up teaching at the academy, my lord. We have striven for years to make it a success, especially Arabella. And now you are trying to make her wed you.”

Marcus’s half smile was meant to disarm. “I doubt I can ‘make’ your sister do anything she doesn’t wish to do.”

But obviously Lily still saw him as a threat. “Arabella won’t be taken in by a handsome face or suave charm, you know.”

Marcus shot her one of his roguish half grins. “Of course she won’t. She is far too astute for that. Which is why I have endeavored to show her that I have more substance than the typical wealthy nobleman.”

When Roslyn eyed him thoughtfully, Marcus continued in the same amiable tone. “I presume you are taking refuge with Miss Blanchard while I am residing at the Hall? Never fear, I have no intention of dragging you both home by your hair. In fact, I am pleased for the opportunity to court your sister in relative privacy-”

Arabella decided it was time to intervene before Marcus could expound on his wicked notions of privacy. “Why have you come here, my lord?”

“Why, to offer my services.”

“Services?”

“As a dance partner during your lesson this afternoon. I understand you mean for your pupils to practice ballroom etiquette in preparation for the ball the local magistrate is holding on Monday. When I visited here yesterday, Miss Caruthers was lamenting that young ladies can only learn so much from a hired dancing master. So I thought to assist.”

Arabella regarded him in surprise. His offer of assistance was beyond generous, considering how torturous it would be for Marcus to suffer another afternoon with a gaggle of schoolgirls.

Of course, he was still attempting to win her favor. Yet she could think of no good reason to decline. Her pupils would indeed benefit from having a real gentleman as a partner. Her sisters usually helped with the ballroom instruction, playing the male roles, but Marcus would be a significant improvement.

“Very well,” Arabella said slowly, “if you are certain you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind in the least,” he assured her. “Your class starts shortly, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, in a few moments.” Arabella glanced at Roslyn, intent on offering her sisters a chance to escape the earl’s focus. “I think we can manage without you this afternoon.”

To her surprise, Roslyn shook her head. “I believe I will stay.”

“So will I,” Lily seconded with a penetrating look at Marcus. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

Arabella suspected her sisters wanted the chance to observe their new guardian, and to provide her moral support as well. Touched by their concern, she preceded them to the ballroom, where their two dozen pupils were already assembled under the supervision of Miss Blanchard and Miss Caruthers.

Lord Danvers’s arrival caused quite a stir. Two dozen pairs of female eyes lit up, not merely at the prospect of dancing with a real earl, Arabella suspected, but of dancing with such a handsome, charming one.

The girls first rehearsed entering the ballroom gracefully, pausing to be announced by the butler, being welcomed by the hosts’ receiving line, then how to respond to requests to dance by various supplicants, including how to turn down undesirable partners. When finally they came to the actual dancing, Miss Caruthers moved to sit at the pianoforte to play.