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Authors: Lady Arden's Redemption
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before he leaves, and Millicent is the obvious choice after me.”
“But she is such an awful woman, Mother. I remember her visit years ago. It was the most unpleasant time I can remember. How will Arden stand her after you?”
“She will survive, I am sure. If we are lucky, perhaps this campaign will be the last and James will return for good. Now, my dear,” said her mother, changing the subject, “which do you prefer, the ivory silk or this pale pink peau de soie ?”
* * * *
Arden was furious. Even Ellen knew of her father’s unforgivable plan and had accepted it, if not approved of it. And with her aunt caught up in her daughter’s marriage, what chance did she have to change her father’s mind, unless she found another companion or a husband.
I can’t believe he is playing the tyrant after all these years, she said to herself as she closed the door on her aunt and cousin happily choosing trousseau fabrics. She stood there a moment, paralyzed by her anger, and then decided that she had to get away: away from all this mother and daughter planning, away from reminders of the momentous change that was taking place in Celia’s and her life. She was not really dressed for walking, but she didn’t care if she wore out her slippers or grass-stained her muslin gown. She had to get out of the house immediately or she would start throwing things.
The butler began to protest as it became obvious she was leaving without an escort. “Let me at least get a footman to accompany you, my lady.”
“Never mind, Hoskins, never mind. I will have companion enough soon,” she muttered.
Because of her height, Arden’s stride was not ladylike. Today, with her unbound hair and forbidding expression, she looked like a Valkyrie going into battle. She received curious stares from street peddlers, horrified looks from young ladies out with their maids and a few admiring glances from the young bloods on their way to their clubs. She saw none of them. She was so oblivious to her surroundings, in fact, that she almost turned down St. James’s Street, an act which would have threatened her reputation far more than her witticisms had. Luckily, Gareth, who was on his way to his club, saw her in time. He quickened his pace and caught up with her just as she reached the corner.
“Lady Arden,” he said, gently grasping her arm, “surely you don’t mean to go down there?”
Arden was in such a haze of anger that she didn’t recognize Gareth immediately and started to order him to unhand her at once. As she realized who he was, she became aware of where she was. That it was Captain Richmond who had saved her from the humiliation of being gawked at by all the dandies and from the subsequent gossip only made her angrier.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Gareth was torn between anger and amusement. “I am on my way to my club. You, however, cannot offer the same excuse, my lady. Whatever are you thinking of, coming out like this without an abigail?”
“Like what?” challenged Arden.
“Well, you look charming, but are hardly dressed for a fashionable stroll. Not that you were strolling,” added Gareth with the grin that made her feel… She didn’t care how it made her feel. Right now, actually, it just made her feel more furious.
“I fail to see what business it is of yours, Captain Richmond.”
“I am a friend of your father,” Gareth reminded her. “I could hardly stand by and watch his daughter further damage her reputation.”
“My father be damned,” swore Arden, succeeding, to her great satisfaction, in shocking Gareth, who had hitherto seemed unshockable. “That surprises you, Captain, that I swear?”
“What surprises me, madam,” replied Gareth quietly, “is that you would do so at your father.”
“What do you know of my father and me, Captain Richmond?” she replied bitterly. “My father intends to return to his beloved battles and leave me with his sister.”
“Surely that is no
“But she is such an awful woman, Mother. I remember her visit years ago. It was the most unpleasant time I can remember. How will Arden stand her after you?”
“She will survive, I am sure. If we are lucky, perhaps this campaign will be the last and James will return for good. Now, my dear,” said her mother, changing the subject, “which do you prefer, the ivory silk or this pale pink peau de soie ?”
* * * *
Arden was furious. Even Ellen knew of her father’s unforgivable plan and had accepted it, if not approved of it. And with her aunt caught up in her daughter’s marriage, what chance did she have to change her father’s mind, unless she found another companion or a husband.
I can’t believe he is playing the tyrant after all these years, she said to herself as she closed the door on her aunt and cousin happily choosing trousseau fabrics. She stood there a moment, paralyzed by her anger, and then decided that she had to get away: away from all this mother and daughter planning, away from reminders of the momentous change that was taking place in Celia’s and her life. She was not really dressed for walking, but she didn’t care if she wore out her slippers or grass-stained her muslin gown. She had to get out of the house immediately or she would start throwing things.
The butler began to protest as it became obvious she was leaving without an escort. “Let me at least get a footman to accompany you, my lady.”
“Never mind, Hoskins, never mind. I will have companion enough soon,” she muttered.
Because of her height, Arden’s stride was not ladylike. Today, with her unbound hair and forbidding expression, she looked like a Valkyrie going into battle. She received curious stares from street peddlers, horrified looks from young ladies out with their maids and a few admiring glances from the young bloods on their way to their clubs. She saw none of them. She was so oblivious to her surroundings, in fact, that she almost turned down St. James’s Street, an act which would have threatened her reputation far more than her witticisms had. Luckily, Gareth, who was on his way to his club, saw her in time. He quickened his pace and caught up with her just as she reached the corner.
“Lady Arden,” he said, gently grasping her arm, “surely you don’t mean to go down there?”
Arden was in such a haze of anger that she didn’t recognize Gareth immediately and started to order him to unhand her at once. As she realized who he was, she became aware of where she was. That it was Captain Richmond who had saved her from the humiliation of being gawked at by all the dandies and from the subsequent gossip only made her angrier.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Gareth was torn between anger and amusement. “I am on my way to my club. You, however, cannot offer the same excuse, my lady. Whatever are you thinking of, coming out like this without an abigail?”
“Like what?” challenged Arden.
“Well, you look charming, but are hardly dressed for a fashionable stroll. Not that you were strolling,” added Gareth with the grin that made her feel… She didn’t care how it made her feel. Right now, actually, it just made her feel more furious.
“I fail to see what business it is of yours, Captain Richmond.”
“I am a friend of your father,” Gareth reminded her. “I could hardly stand by and watch his daughter further damage her reputation.”
“My father be damned,” swore Arden, succeeding, to her great satisfaction, in shocking Gareth, who had hitherto seemed unshockable. “That surprises you, Captain, that I swear?”
“What surprises me, madam,” replied Gareth quietly, “is that you would do so at your father.”
“What do you know of my father and me, Captain Richmond?” she replied bitterly. “My father intends to return to his beloved battles and leave me with his sister.”
“Surely that is no
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