"Any more hints and tips?"
"Nothing urgent. We can look it over in the carriage. Come, let's get started, while we still have some light left." He took her hand, and gave her a dazzling smile.
As Arabella looked up at his handsome face and her heart turned over, she was prepared to forgive Blake anything, even Leonore.
Three days of relatively uneventful travel, which was both torture and Heaven for them both, brought them to Michael Avenel's house just outside the elegant city of Bath.
Blake had had the servants ride inside with them for the sake of propriety as well as warmth, so he and Arabella had seldom been alone together in the coach or at the inn. He had shared his room with Timothy the valet, and she with Betsey, her abigail, in order to avoid temptation.
Their conversation and manner with each other had never really gone beyond the polite and their common interests, but Blake had been relieved in a way. His feelings were in such turmoil he would probably have blurted out his longings to her if he had not had to maintain his dignified exterior in front of the hired help.
Arabella had soaked up every ounce of his company, basking in the warm glow of his hazel eyes. He might be Leonore's for a few hours at night, but she had him almost all to herself during the days, where it really counted, in his home, sharing everything with him except his bed. Was it so far-fetched to imagine she could share that too?
She knew enough of feminine wiles to be sure she could try to manipulate Blake-a turned ankle, a pretend illness, dining alone with him in her room because fatigued with travel. Any of those might have lured him back behind closed doors and enticingly near a bed, but she was terrified he would think ill of her, send her away, leave her in Somerset. For the sake of the powerful longing she felt burning inside her every time she was with Blake, she might risk losing him forever as a friend. As the guardian of her heart, body and soul. It just wasn't worth the risk.
When they pulled up to the front door of the modest stone-built eighteenth century house, she was glad to have reached her destination at last. Perhaps there would be a chance for some privacy here in the quaint little house.
She stood up to get out, but lurched as the horse took two steps forward. Blake grabbed her and swung her into his arms.
"Are you all right?
"Yes, fine. I just feel a bit dizzy, that's all. As though I haven't stopped moving for days."
A servant opened the front door to them, and Blake asked the butler to show him the way to the chamber which had been set aside for her.
He took her up to her room and laid her gently down on the bed. It was a pleasant room decorated in blue and burgundy, with a pomegranate-patterned spread on the enormous four-poster bed, and matching curtains in the bay windows. The view was a lovely panorama of Bath Abbey and the town.
"There now. You are to rest, do you hear me? Let Betsey unpack for you. And you are to have a tray here in your room, and a bath. I shall make your apologies to Michael at dinner, and see you in the morning."
He stroked her cheek and before he realised what he was doing, he began to untie the strings of her bonnet.
"Blake-"
He placed one finger on her lips. "Don't say anything. You don't have to thank me for taking care of you. It's always my pleasure."
"Are you feeling better, is what I was going to ask," she said, sitting up slightly.
"I am. Now that I've shaken the dirt of London off my feet, I'm feeling much more calm. We must cheer up Michael. I'm sure you'll like him when you meet him. I've told you all about him, so no more mention of what happened in London, eh? He's had a hard time, and we wouldn't want my gloom to add to his."
"I understand. You're a good friend. To him and to me."
"I do try."
She smiled up at him, wondering why he could not see the love in her eyes. "You don't even have to try. I can see why Peter values your friendship so."
"So long as you do, that's the main thing. I'm glad we've been able to put our little difficulties behind us. There isn't one in a hundred women who would have stood up to Rosalie as you've done, or ignored Leonore's attempts to shame me in your eyes."
"I stood up to Rosalie because it was the right thing to do. She needs to know that she cannot behave in any manner she chooses without there being consequences. I would still consider warning your solicitor in regard to what she did. Libel, slander, there must be any number of things he can threaten to sue her for. We should get Alistair Grant's professional opinion on the matter at the very least."
He shrugged. "On the other hand, that might provoke her further. Rest now, pet. Don't start worrying about me when you are so fatigued. It will all be fine. We're here now, and safe from the slings and arrows and calumnies of outrageous people."