‘Next week, Arabella. Or there will be no wedding.’
Arabella looked up at him searchingly, knowing by the grimness of Darius’s expression—the stern set of his mouth and the coldness of his blue eyes—that he was unshakeable in his decision that she would marry him next week and be damned, or the two of them would not marry at all.
She drew in a deep breath. ‘Very well, Darius.’ She gave a tiny inclination of her head. ‘I will inform Hawk that we have decided to marry as early as possible next week.’
‘I will be the one to inform your brother as to our intentions, Arabella,’ Darius cut in decisively, a cynical curl to his top lip. ‘As is my right as your future husband.’ He quirked one arrogant brow.
Arabella bit back the argument that had been hovering upon her lips, wisely deciding that prudence was probably the better course at this point in time. There would be plenty of opportunity after they were married for her to show Darius that she had no intention of being a conventional meek or obedient wife….
Chapter Four
‘It is still not too late to change your mind, Arabella, if you have a single doubt as to the wisdom of marrying Carlyne.’
Arabella turned to look across her bedchamber as Hawk, her tall and imposing brother, stood in the doorway dressed in his own wedding finery of snowy white linen beneath a tailored claret-coloured jacket of the very finest velvet, black pantaloons and shiny black Hessians.
The rest of the family had already departed for St George’s Church in Hanover Square, but as the eldest of her brothers Hawk was to ride with Arabella in the bridal carriage, and then accompany her down the aisle before handing her into the care of her husband-to-be.
Into Darius Wynter’s care.
Arabella swallowed down her feelings of nervousness as she presented her brother with a widely confident smile. ‘I have no doubts at all, Hawk.’
This past week had been a busy one of hectic arrangements. Arabella had never been left alone for a moment as the dressmaker was visited, the ivory silk chosen for her gown and fittings arranged, flowers obtained, and the menu for the wedding breakfast decided upon in consultation with Jane.
There had been little or no time for second or third thoughts, and with everything there had been to arrange or decide upon, Arabella had seen very little of Darius himself. Despite that, Arabella was more convinced than ever that her choice of husband was the correct one. For her.
Arabella knew herself well enough to realise that she could never be happy with a weak man, a man she could bend to her will by artifice or design. And Darius would never be such a man.
Despite their lack of opportunity to spend time together, Arabella had nevertheless had the chance to witness for herself what she viewed as the strengths of Darius’s character. His arrogance was more than a match for any of her brothers whenever they chanced to meet. He had been charm itself on meeting Jane and being faced with her obvious uncertainties as to his suitability as a husband for Arabella.
Most surprising had been Darius’s consideration and gentleness with his brother’s widow, the Dowager Duchess of Carlyne, when she had arrived in London three days ago for the wedding and the betrothed couple had been invited to dine with her that evening.
Arabella had reassured herself that any man capable of showing such kindness as Darius had to Margaret Wynter, even a man who preferred the ton to think of him as a rake and a cynic, could not possibly be all bad.
Hawk’s austere expression softened slightly as he stepped further into the bedchamber. ‘You look so much like Mama today.’ He gazed down at her admiringly in the ivory silk gown, her golden curls enhanced by a matching bonnet, her bouquet a simple arrangement of deep yellow roses from the St Claire hot-house.
‘Really? ‘ Arabella glowed; she had been aged only eight when her mother and father were killed in a carriage accident, and over the years her memories of her warm and beautiful mother had become hazy at best.
‘Very much so,’ Hawk assured her gruffly as he reached out to take both her hands in his own. ‘How I wish our parents could be here to see how beautiful you look on your wedding day.’
Arabella squeezed his hands. ‘Perhaps they can.’
‘Perhaps,’ Hawk allowed gently.
She gave her brother a searching glance. ‘I am going to be happy, Hawk.’
‘So Lucian never fails to assure me.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Even so, I am sure I have made no secret of the fact that Carlyne is not the man I ever envisaged as a husband for you.’
‘No.’ Arabella smiled slightly as she thought of the battle of wills that had ensued between Darius and Hawk on the few occasions the two men had met during this past week. Battles which Darius had—surprisingly—invariably won …
Her brother gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘Perhaps if I had known of your preference for him then I would not have been so hasty in refusing him when he last offered for you.’
Arabella’s eyed widened incredulously. ‘Darius has offered for me before?’ ‘During your first Season,’ Hawk acknowledged heavily, releasing her hands to cross the bedchamber and stand with his back towards her as he stared out of the window into the busy street below.
‘I—But—Why did you not tell me?’ Arabella frowned in disbelief as she stared at the implacability of Hawk’s stiffly erect back and shoulders.
Darius had offered for her the previous year?
Before he had made a similar offer for Sophie Belling and been accepted, obviously.
Hawk turned, the sternness of his features twisted into a grimace. ‘I did not tell you because I was not—am still not—convinced as Lucien appears to be as to Carlyne’s suitability as a husband for you.’
‘So you refused his first offer for me without even consulting me? ‘ Arabella accused.
‘I did.’ Hawk looked haughtily unrepentant. ‘And I would have done so again this time if the—the circumstances had not been as they were. If you had not informed me it was your sincere wish to marry him.’ His expression was grim. ‘The fact that Carlyne offered for Sophie Belling too last summer, and then married her after approaching me in regard to you such a short time before, only confirmed to me that his reasons for offering for you then were of a mercenary nature rather than because his emotions were truly engaged.’
Arabella knew she couldn’t refute that claim. She doubted that Darius could, either. But for Hawk to have refused Darius’s offer without even asking her opinion was beyond belief.
Although it went some way to explaining Darius’s remark a week ago that a wealthy duke was obviously a more attractive marriage prospect than a penniless lord. He obviously believed Arabella’s only reason for accepting him now was because he was now a wealthy duke!
Would she have accepted if she had known of Darius’s offer a year ago?
At the time he had been known as a rake and a gambler. A man who, with little personal wealth left at his disposal, was deeply in debt. A man whose only means of alleviating that debt had appeared to be in the taking of a wealthy woman to wife.
Hawk was Arabella’s guardian, charged with her welfare, and she knew that he had been perfectly justified in refusing him on her behalf when Darius had offered for her last summer.
But as the young woman who had compared every man she had met these past two Seasons with the devilish good-looks and magnetic charisma of Lord Darius Wynter—and found them all wanting!—Arabella could not help but feel resentful at Hawk’s highhandedness. She might not be in love with Darius, or he with her, but Arabella had absolutely no doubt that she would have accepted him the previous summer.
Much as