Adam slapped his hand away. "Get your own. I paid for this one."
"Now, Brother, fair is fair. Share and share alike. Arabella is said to be a real beauty, by the way. Worth a king's ransom in her own right. It will be no hardship waking up to her in the morning. Assuming you ever got to sleep the night before, that is," he said with a smirk.
Adam gave what passed for a smile these days, a grimace of pain as he tried to get comfortable on the chaise longue with his back trussed up like a turkey. For the thousandth time he cursed the riding accident that had left him less than a whole man.
"All right." He nodded. "Pull in all the favours we're owed. Borrow clothes, money, jewellery, and a carriage. We're going to cut a dash and take the Town by storm."
"What if they ask questions about what we've been up to since we got sent down from Oxford?" Oliver wondered aloud.
"Tell the truth. We've tried a few things with a view to improving the estate. Which, as the eldest, is mine, of course," Adam said with a smirk. "Just like this tart."
"You don't mind do you, honey? Two for the price of one will be double the pleasure for you."
The girl began to protest she was a working woman, but naked as she was, and pinned on the couch, she wasn't in much of a position to argue. Or indeed do much of anything else except submit…
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Elthams' at home was a simple affair, but the townhouse was so grand that Arabella had all to do not to stare at everything. She felt like a little country mouse as she looked at the elegant décor.
She noted that Blake's home was not so ostentatious, though he could afford better, she knew. As could she now that she had done so well with her investments.
She had made a couple of small errors in her calculations, but in the past fortnight she had come to look forward to reading the financial papers, and her portfolio was exceedingly healthy.
Even better though was how proud Blake seemed to be of her. She had thought it would be hopelessly awkward to live under the same roof with the man who had almost become her lover.
But he was so unceasingly polite and correct, and had so many fascinating sides to his personality, that every day was a new source of interest and excitement to her. Tonight, for example, in front of his friends, she heard him sing for the first time, and he was by no means as bad as he had let on. Quite excellent, in fact.
He was most assiduous in his small kindnesses to her, assisting with her shawl, cloak, reticule, travelling rugs. He made her feel like a princess, like the most important woman in the world.
Yet never once did he try to repeat any of the amorous attentions he had bestowed upon her in the carriage or their room at the inn.
She had smiled as she had seen him come downstairs wearing a lavender cravat with his dark evening suit. It had matched her gown perfectly. Had that been his intention when he had told her which gown to wear?
He had partnered her at whist that evening, sang several duets with her, and held her wool as she took some work out of her reticule whilst they listened to the Stones perform.
Then she realised they were all paired off, married couples, and she and Blake.
She looked at each couple again. How were they any different from herself and Blake? They shared the same regard and tastes; the same attentions were paid to the ladies as to her.
The only difference she could see was the warm demonstrativeness of the couples, for they all held hands, kissed, embraced.
Blake followed her gaze to the Duke and his wife as they sat in one corner with her on his lap whispering over some little private matter.
She stared even further when their infant son, now nearly two months old, was brought in, and Charlotte fed him herself as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Arabella shot Blake a look to see if he was looking at the Duchess' bare breast, but all he did was smile at the child and compliment them on their adorable baby.
He instructed Charlotte on the best way to bring up the wind by taking the baby from her and stroking his back gently until he let out a belch which would have done a stevedore proud. With an indulgent smile Blake mopped up his little face with his handkerchief.
He cuddled and dandled the infant in his large hands with natural grace and ease that left her breathless.
Arabella had never felt so moved. She had never been drawn strongly to anyone before as she was to this strange man who had come into her life like a meteor, left it again, and then had returned completely transformed.
Well, not completely. He was the same in all respects, but their relationship could never be. They had originally been thrown together by trials and tribulations. That kind of romance under fire could never last. But a solid and lasting commitment, such as the couples in the room seemed to have built up, that was binding and real.