chapter 5

The following Friday evening Arabella had arranged to meet Harrison in Stephen’s Green for them to go out to dinner. As she alighted from her father’s carriage at the top of Grafton Street, she smiled as she saw him waiting for her. Her smile dropped as she saw Charles standing beside him.

“Charles, what a surprise!” Her smile did not carry to her eyes. “I thought you were returning to Armstrong House last Monday?”

“I did and I caught the train back to Dublin today,” said Charles.

“Whatever for?” She couldn’t keep the irritation out of her voice.

“For the theatre!” said Harrison. “Charles has got us three tickets to see the new play at the Gaiety tonight.”

“But I’ve already seen it,” said Arabella.

“Oh, dear! I wanted to repay you for being such hospitable hosts last weekend,” explained Charles.

“There really was no need,” insisted Arabella.

“Every need!” said Charles in a sing-song voice.

“I really wish somebody had warned me about this. I’m not dressed for the theatre . . .”

“But you look beautiful,” smiled Charles as his eyes bored into her.

“I’m not even in the mood for the theatre tonight,” she said.

“Arabella!” said Harrison, smiling, but with a cautious look on his face. “You’re almost being ungrateful to Charles.”

“No, it’s all right, Harrison, if Arabella would prefer not to go . . .” said Charles.

Arabella forced herself to smile and spoke earnestly. “Of course it’s fine. Don’t mind me, Charles – I’m just not good with surprises.”

“In that case, shall we make our way to the theatre?” said Charles with a broad smile as he held out his arm for Arabella to take.

Arabella hesitated before taking his arm and they walked down the street, with Harrison alongside them.

Arabella was positioned between the two brothers in the theatre. She was glad she had seen the play before, because that evening she would have been unable to concentrate on it. She felt extremely uncomfortable so close to Charles. She tried to keep away from him as much as she could, but it didn’t stop her feeling his leg through the many layers of her gown, or his arm pressed against hers. Like Harrison, Charles was a tall man leaving Arabella feeling her personal space was being invaded. What’s more, his aroma was overpowering and intoxicating. She was delighted when the play was over and they all stood to clap for the actors.

The audience then made its way to the foyer where it congregated.

“Drinks?” smiled Charles.

“A glass of white wine, please,” said Harrison.

“The same for me,” said Arabella.

Charles made his way through the crowded foyer to join the queue at the bar.

“I have to say you could have been a bit politer to Charles earlier,” whispered Harrison.

“I told you, I don’t like surprises,” she said.

“I mean, he made the journey all the way up from the country to bring us here tonight,” Harrison pointed out.

Her temper gave. “For goodness’ sake! Do you want me to apologise to him or something?”

“Of course not – it’s just quite unlike you to be so rude!” said Harrison.

She forced herself to be quiet.

“What time does your parents’ soirée start tomorrow night?” asked Harrison.

“Eight,” Arabella informed him as she spotted people she knew across the foyer and waved and mouthed hello to them.

“Fine, we’ll be there in plenty of time.”

Arabella stopped waving and looked at Harrison, concerned. “We?”

“Yes, myself and Charles.”

“Harrison!” she shrieked, causing people to look round.

“What on earth is wrong with you?” snapped Harrison.

“I just wish you could have consulted me beforehand. I don’t want to lumber extra guests on my parents without them agreeing beforehand.”

“It’s not extra guests, it’s just Charles. They always have loads of people attending their drinks parties who they hardly know. I’m sure my brother won’t be a burden to them.”

“Well, they won’t be given the opportunity now to decide, will they?” she snapped.

“Well, I could hardly leave him at home on his own while we’re off enjoying ourselves, could I?”

Arabella was saved from saying something she might regret by the reappearance of Charles with a waiter carrying a silver tray of three wineglasses. They took their glasses from the tray.

Charles raised his glass and smiled. “Is everyone having as charming an evening as I am?”

Arabella took a large gulp of her drink.

The cab pulled up outside the Tattinger house on Ailesbury Avenue and Harrison and Charles alighted.

“This is Arabella’s home,” said Harrison proudly as the two walked up the driveway of the imposing redbrick house.

“Very nice,” commented Charles, giving no indication he had been there the previous Monday when Arabella had refused to meet him.

They climbed the steps and Harrison pulled the doorbell.

“Good evening, Molly,” said Harrison as he and Charles handed over their hats and coats.

“They’re in the drawing room, sir,” said Molly as she put their garments to one side. She led them across the hall and opened the door for them.

The room was filled with well-dressed people as two footmen circulated and served drinks.

Charles spotted Arabella immediately. She was looking radiant and standing out from the crowd.

Harrison led Charles over to her parents.

“I’m sorry we’re somewhat late,” said Harrison. “Sir George and Lady Tattinger, you remember my brother Charles?”

“Of course, delighted to see you again,” smiled George. “And how are your parents?”

“Very good, sir. I believe the price of wheat has gone up which has made my father exorbitantly happy!” said Charles, causing George and Caroline to laugh.

“I say, that’s Charles Armstrong, isn’t it?” said Sophia, a close female friend of Arabella’s.

“Yes, Harrison’s brother. Do you know him?”

“No. But my brother does. He was in university with him.” Sophia had a look on her face that was a mixture of excitement and horror.

“I don’t know him that well,” said Arabella.

“Maybe it’s just as well!”

“Why?”

“Well, he had quite a reputation at university.”

“In what way?” Arabella demanded.

“Well, he wasn’t at university to study by all accounts but to drink, gamble and carouse. I believe trouble seemed to follow him around like a bad smell around a pig! But he’s so smooth and devious he always got away with everything. My brother said he’s not quite the charmer he presents to the world. On one occasion . . .” Sophia looked quickly around to make sure nobody was listening before leaning into Arabella’s ear and whispering the rest of the story. “He was courting four girls at the same time, and all four girls had their names ruined by him!”

Arabella’s face turned red as she heard this. “I don’t believe it!”

Arabella found herself being drawn to looking at Charles for the rest of the night. Again he seemed to be seeking out her company and she continued to try to avoid him, even more so after what she had heard from Sophia. But she eventually found herself cornered by him.

“Your parents were so good to invite me,” said Charles.

“They didn’t actually,” she said curtly. “Harrison invited you.”

“What?” He looked surprised and then embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I assumed your parents had extended the invitation. I should leave.” He turned to go.

“No! Wait!” she said quickly. “What I meant was they weren’t aware you were in Dublin to invite. If they had been, they would naturally have invited you.”

“Are you sure?” he said. “I would hate to stay where I wasn’t welcome.”

“You are very welcome here, Charles,” she said politely.

“Oh good!” he smiled and moved on.

Caroline immediately came over to Arabella. “I’d forgotten how nice Charles was!”

“Easily done,” Arabella muttered.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing!”

Caroline looked at her daughter, exasperated, then decided to let her rudeness go. “I’ve invited him to our dinner party here next weekend.”

“But he’ll be returning to the country on Monday!” Arabella was astounded.

“No, he said he’ll make the journey up especially for the dinner party! Isn’t that nice of him?”

“Mama!” Arabella snapped loudly. “I wish you had discussed it with me before you asked him.”

“What is there to ask? You’re going to be part of his family after all.” Caroline was puzzled.

“And I get stuck with him for yet another weekend,” Arabella whispered under her breath.

At the dinner party the following Saturday Arabella made sure to sit at the furthest end of the table from where Charles was positioned. It didn’t matter as Charles’ loud and gregarious conversation dominated the table and captured everyone’s attention.

“I came into the drawing room at Armstrong House and my mother had my youngest sister Emily imprisoned on the couch, giving her elocution lessons, getting her to repeat over and over again ‘The cat sat on the mat’,” said Charles. “My mother was reprimanding her, telling her she wasn’t concentrating on her consonants – ‘The cat sat on the mat,’ emphasised my mother. To which dearest little Emily jumped up in a fit of rage and screamed: ‘Who gives a damn where the bloody cat sat!’”

The whole table erupted in laughter mixed with shocked gasps.

“Poor Lady Armstrong!” said Caroline, shocked at his repeating Emily’s bad language.

“I’m sure Emily will mature into as fine a lady as your sister Gwyneth,” said George.

“Yes, and any news of Gwyneth’s wedding to the Duke?” inquired Caroline.

“They are talking spring,” said Charles.

After dinner, the party walked through the double doors into the front drawing room where the banter continued unabated. Arabella kept to the back of the room, where she hoped Charles wouldn’t notice her. On the contrary, as the night wore on he made a beeline for her.

“Thank your parents for being wonderful hosts tonight,” said Charles.

“Why don’t you thank them yourself?”

He smiled at her. “We must meet up for tea during the week, perhaps Monday if you’re free, before I return to the country.”

She looked at him, alarmed. “But Harrison will be at work.”

“So?”

“I’m not in the habit of meeting men I don’t know well, unchaperoned.”

“Well, as we are going to be family, I think we should get better acquainted.”

She studied him. “You called to our house a while back asking to meet me. Why?”

“Ah yes, it was a Monday afternoon if I remember. It’s quite simple: I was returning your glove.”

“Glove? What glove?”

“The glove you left behind at our house in Merrion Square over the weekend when you were there.”

“I wasn’t missing any glove. It wasn’t mine,” she said firmly.

“Oh, I see. I wonder then in that case whose it was?”

“I don’t know and really don’t care.”

“I hope Harrison hasn’t been entertaining a young lady there behind your back.” His eyes glinted mischievously at her.

“Don’t be ridiculous. And how dare you say such a thing!”

“I’m sorry. I’ve offended you.”

“Charles, you flatter yourself if you think you could ever provoke any reaction from me other than disinterest.” She turned and pushed past him to join the others.

chapter 6

Weekend after weekend passed and Arabella became used to Harrison turning up to nearly every event with Charles but she was increasingly unhappy with the situation. The man seemed to know no boundaries, she thought. He continued to try to flirt with her, to capture her alone, to get her attention.

Charles was on horseback and was setting off for a ride around the estate.

“Charles!” cried a voice and he turned around to see Emily galloping towards him on her horse.

He waited for her to catch up.

“Mother will kill you if she sees you’re not riding side-saddle,” he warned her.

“Mother will kill me anyway. I’ve escaped from her tuition for the afternoon.”

“Where are you going?”

“With you!” She looked imploringly at him.

“Come along then,” he sighed and the two of them set off, riding through the countryside, chatting.

“If it’s not table manners, it’s elocution. If it’s not elocution it’s walking practice. She wants to turn me into a walking, talking doll!”

Charles laughed. “I suppose we have to take on the roles that are given to us in life.”

“You always please yourself. You’re nobody’s puppet. It’s what I love about you. You’re the only one here who really understands me.”

“Poor Emily!” he mocked.

She looked at him curiously. “Where do you go at the weekends, Charles?”

“You know where I go – to the house in Dublin.”

“Are you sure that’s where you go?”

He looked at her, confused. “Check with Harrison if you don’t believe me . . . Why, where do you think I go?”

“I’m not sure. But I know you, Charles, and I just don’t buy you coming back to Armstrong House to take over your position here. You’re up to something. You’ve got a secret.”

He started laughing. “What secret could I have?”

“Does it involve a woman? I think it does. I think you’re in love with a woman.”

“And who am I in love with?” he asked.

“I don’t know . . . But it isn’t straightforward. It’s complicated, that’s what I think . . . There’s something holding you back from being with her and it’s driving you mad . . . is she married?”

“Emily!” Charles looked at her, shocked.

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind if she was!” said Emily quickly.

“Well, the good lady’s husband might!” said Charles.

“If she were married, I wouldn’t judge you, honestly. I’m very open-minded.”

“Are you indeed?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I can’t understand why everyone is horrified that Charles Stewart Parnell is having an affair with a married woman. I don’t know why he’s being ruined by it.”

“You’d better not let Mother hear you say that.”

“All I’m saying is, if you are in some – situation – with a woman that’s . . . complicated . . . I can help you. I’m a very loyal ally, Charles. And if you need me to help, to cover up, to carry messages – anything at all – you can trust me.” She looked adoringly at him.

“Don’t live your life through other people’s lives, Emily. Live your own life.”

“Are you in love, Charles?”

He sighed. “I don’t know . . . I’m not sure . . . I haven’t thought it through properly.” She was staring at him, burning with curiosity, and he smiled at her. “No, there isn’t anybody – I’m only teasing you. Now, shut up and let’s go down to the lake.” He dug his heels into his horse and took off quickly.

Walking into the restaurant, Arabella spotted Charles sitting at the table alone and felt agitated, wondering where Harrison was.

“Where’s Harrison?” she asked straight away.

“Ahh, I’m afraid he’s been held up at work,” said Charles.

Arabella looked annoyed. “I really wish he would tell me if he’s going to be late.”

“Well, he knew you would be in safe hands with me.”

She ignored him and picked up the menu.

“I took the liberty of already ordering your starter for you . . . Well, you always order scallops for starters, so it was no mystery.”

The waiter arrived with two plates of scallops and placed one in front of Charles and the other in front of Arabella.

Arabella looked at the scallops. “Could you take this away please?” She glanced at the menu. “I’ll have the French cheese tartlet instead.”

“Very good, my lady.”

“Why don’t you want scallops tonight?” asked Charles.

She said nothing.

He paused before asking, “Is it because I ordered them?”

She ignored him and continued to look around the restaurant.

Charles sat back and studied her. “You don’t like me much, do you?”

“I’m sure I neither like nor dislike you.”

He sat forward. “Have I ever been unpleasant or discourteous to you?”

“No.”

“Then what is your problem with me?”

She stared at him a long time. “Have you no life of your own? Every time I turn to look, there you are. Don’t you have an estate you need to run?”

“I’ve as much right to be in Dublin as anyone. I’ve every right to be in the house in Merrion Square as much as Harrison does. More in fact, as it will be mine one day as the future Lord Armstrong.”

“Don’t you ever think myself and Harrison do not want you with us all the time?”

“Has Harrison said so?”

“No but –”

“Then it’s you who doesn’t want me.”

She leaned towards him and spoke quietly. “I don’t trust you. I don’t know what you are up to or what you want, but I don’t trust you. You might have everyone else fooled with your charm and your ways, but not me . . . I do not trust you!”

They glared at each other.

Just then Arabella saw Harrison enter the restaurant and whispered, “And to answer your question – no – no, I do not like you!”

Harrison reached the table and sat down. “I am so sorry! It’s entirely your father’s fault I am late, Arabella.”

“My father?” she said, smiling warmly at him.

“Yes. With this award he has been given.” He turned to explain to Charles. “Sir George has been given a big award by the Bankers Federation of America. We were having a drink to celebrate at work tonight.”

“How very nice for him,” said Charles coolly as he avoided looking at Arabella.

“That’s right – my parents are thrilled with it.” Arabella spoke happily and lightly. “They have to travel to New York next month for him to accept the award.” She felt as though a weight had been lifted from her since she’d told Charles her feelings about him.

“Next month! But that’s December – will they be back for Christmas?” said Harrison.

“No, nor will I. I’m travelling with them,” said Arabella.

“No!” Harrison was crestfallen. “But you can’t leave me alone at Christmas, can she, Charles?”

“Indeed, it would be heartless,” said Charles as he gave Arabella a cold stare.

“What option do I have?” said Arabella.

“You can come and spend Christmas at Armstrong House with my family, can’t she, Charles?” said Harrison.

Charles said nothing as he continued to stare.

“You are silly, Harrison – that is out of the question,” said Arabella.

“Why? There would be nothing inappropriate. My mother can act as your chaperone,” said Harrison.

“Harrison, I will not be spending Christmas at Armstrong House.” She turned towards Charles and they glared coldly at each other.

Charles was sitting on the train as he made his way back home after the weekend. He sat staring out the window at the passing countryside, Arabella’s words ringing in his ears – ‘I do not trust you’, and ‘no – no – I do not like you!’ He had tried everything with her, but she was immune to him. It made him want her all the more. He would have to change tack, he realised.

chapter 7

The following Friday Arabella arrived with her parents at the Mansion House where a ball was being given by the Lord Mayor. They climbed the steps and entered the grand foyer of the building in Dawson Street, where Harrison was waiting for them.

“May I take your coats?” said the concierge.

Arabella untied her silk cape and handed it over.

As her mother and father chatted to Harrison, they made their way through the elegant crowd to the main room. Arabella’s eyes surveyed the crowd, searching for Charles.

“Where’s Charles?”

“I don’t know,” said Harrison.

“Is he not coming tonight?”

“He’s not in Dublin, so I suppose he’s not.”

“Not in Dublin? Why not?”

“I haven’t heard from him.” He held out his arms to her. “Shall we dance?”

She nodded and went into his arms and the two of them joined the couples swirling around the dance floor. As she danced, her thoughts were preoccupied with Charles. As she replayed the conversation they’d had in the restaurant, she knew her words had been cutting and unkind – she had meant them to be. But she thought they would have had as much impact on a man like Charles as water off a duck’s back. She was sure Charles had been held up on estate business, and would be back in Dublin the following weekend.

But Charles wasn’t in Dublin the following weekend either. Arabella had found herself wondering all week would he show up. And when he didn’t arrive to join Harrison and her on their weekend activities, she realised it must be what she said that was keeping him away.

The following week, she found she did far more than just wonder if Charles would show up the next weekend. She did little else but think about it. She found herself waiting expectantly for Friday to arrive. And when there was no sign of him she was disappointed.

“Whatever has happened to Charles?” Arabella asked Harrison as they took tea in a tearoom on Grafton Street on the Saturday afternoon.

“Nothing, I imagine,” said Harrison as he took a bite from the Victoria cream cake.

“I just find it very strange that one couldn’t turn without seeing him for weekend after weekend and now he has just disappeared.”

“Oh, well, that’s Charles for you. Something grabs his attention and it’s like it takes over his life. Then something else comes along, and he’s off obsessing on that.”

“It’s not a very balanced way to lead your life.”

Harrison laughed loudly. “I don’t think balance is something Charles particularly wants in life . . . I imagine some young lady has turned his head. The hunt season has begun.”

Harrison’s words didn’t calm her: they seemed to set something off in her. Something she had never experienced before. An anger, an irritation that seemed to grip her heart. Was this jealousy? And why should she be jealous of this man she despised? Why should she worry? But she did worry. And what worried her most was her reaction.

Caroline looked in a full-length mirror at the sparkling ensemble she was wearing.

“What do you think?” she asked Arabella who was sitting on a chaise-longue.

“Very nice,” said Arabella absent-mindedly.

“Nice!” exclaimed Caroline. “I don’t want to look just nice! I need to look dazzling for New York!” She turned to look at her daughter who was staring off into the distance. “Arabella! Are you even listening to me?”

Arabella was jolted out of her trance. “Yes, of course. The dress is beautiful, Mama.”

Caroline went and sat down on the chaise-longue beside Arabella.

“Arabella, what is wrong with you these past few weeks? You’re so distracted, and bad-tempered even.”

“Mama, I don’t want to go to New York!”

“Don’t want to go to New York? It’s a wonderful opportunity to see it. And we’ll be staying at The Plaza and –”

“I just don’t want to go.”

“But why?”

“Because I hate travelling at sea – I hate steam liners – I’ll be ill all the time.”

“The journey will last less than a week. Besides, you have no choice. We can hardly leave you without a chaperone for the whole time of Christmas.”

“I’ve been invited down to Armstrong House for Christmas,” said Arabella suddenly.

“Armstrong House?” Realisation dawned on Caroline. “So this is all about Harrison, is it?”

“No, yes, it’s about everything!” Arabella suddenly became upset.

Caroline put her arms around Arabella. “But, dear child, Harrison will be here when you get back from New York.”

“You can’t take anything for granted.”

“Well, I think you can take Harrison’s love for you for granted – it’s as plain to see as daylight.”

“Oh, Mama, please don’t make me go to New York!” Arabella said, her eyes pleading. “I can’t bear to be away from him for so long. And I’ll be well chaperoned at Armstrong House with Lady Margaret, and Gwyneth and everyone else.”

Caroline had always had a weakness for romance. She believed in the simplicity of true love, destiny, and happy-ever-afters. But as she spoke to her husband that night in their bedroom about Arabella’s wishes, she knew he would be far more practical about the whole business.

“Never heard anything like it!” he dismissed. “Not coming to New York indeed because she can’t bear to be apart from Harrison!”

“Well, I don’t think there’s a point in pushing her to do something she doesn’t want to. She is an adult now, and soon to be married to Harrison.”

“We have always allowed her more freedom than most young girls her age.”

“Arabella was always such a sensible and mature girl that there was never anything to fear with her.”

“True!” sighed George.

“And Harrison is so sensible and mature as well.”

“True,” George conceded again.

“She couldn’t have a better chaperone than Lady Margaret over Christmas. The woman frets if there is a knife out of place at the table, let alone anything else.”

“And what about the Land War?”

“Oh, I think we’ve seen for ourselves that the Armstrong estate is perfectly safe and outside the reaches of it. Arabella will be in no danger there.”

“Oh, very well,” George sighed again.

“You are the most marvellous man!” Caroline leaned forward and kissed him.

“Better than being stuck with a lovelorn sulky daughter for the whole trip!”

Margaret was opening her letters at breakfast in the dining room at Armstrong House.

“A letter from Caroline Tattinger,” she said as she read it quickly. “She asks if Arabella could stay with us for Christmas while they are in New York.”

“How lovely!” said Gwyneth.

“Seemingly Arabella suffers from severe sea sickness and can’t face the journey across the Atlantic.” Margaret put the letter back in the envelope.

“As Gwyneth said, it will be lovely to have her,” said Lawrence.

“Harrison will certainly be delighted,” said Margaret. “You’d swear she was never coming back the way he’s been so desolate in his letters at the thought of her going!”

“Is there anything as enchanting as young love?” smiled Charles. He sat back, thinking. His plan was working. He just had to be very careful now not to do anything to upset it.

Arabella was amazed when her parents consented to her going to Armstrong House. Amazed, delighted and then terrified. She had never thought they would have allowed it, and so the decision would have been taken out of her hands. She wouldn’t have to see Charles again or confront what he had stirred in her. Now she was terrified of what seeing him again would provoke in her.

She was being silly, she then reasoned. This was for the best. She would see Charles again and quickly realise she had let her mind run away with her these past weeks. She would see him and know that she had built him up into something he wasn’t, and built her feelings up into something they weren’t at all. She was going to Armstrong House to confront her real feelings for Charles and discover they amounted to nothing. Then she would put the whole sorry experience behind her, and get on with life with Harrison.

The Tattingers set off to catch the steamship in Cork and a spinster aunt had been dispatched to the Tattinger home to mind Arabella until she was to go to Armstrong House on Christmas Eve.

Arabella was counting the days.

chapter 8

On Christmas Eve, Harrison collected her from Ailesbury Road in a cab and they continued to the train station. Snow was beginning to fall as they made their way through the Dublin streets. It had become heavy by the time they reached the station and walked through the bustling crowd to the first-class carriage where they had reservations.

“Everyone can’t wait to see you again,” said Harrison excitedly. “Mother is putting you in the Blue Room. That’s the best guest room.”

“Very kind of her.”

Harrison prattled on about what to expect over Christmas at Armstrong House.

“Christmas is always such a special time there. There’s always the hunt the day after Christmas. All the gentry come from far and wide . . .”

Arabella barely listened as she looked out the window at the countryside turning white under the snow.

By the time the train pulled into the station at Castlewest, the snow lay thick on the ground. As Arabella followed Harrison across the train platform, she was hoping Charles would be at the station to meet them. The Charles she had known in Dublin would have been eagerly waiting for them, full of compliments for her. As a servant came rushing to assist with the luggage, she realised Charles wasn’t coming.

Their carriage drove the several miles to Armstrong House carefully through the snow. It entered the main gates to the estate and travelled along the lakeshore up the long winding driveway until Armstrong House, a vision in the snow, came into view across the lake.

The carriage pulled into the forecourt and Harrison assisted Arabella through the falling snow and up the steps to the front door where Barton was waiting.

“Merry Christmas, Barton,” said Harrison as he took off his snow-covered cloak and handed it over.

“Same to you, sir, and Miss Tattinger,” said Barton as two footmen carried in their luggage and took it upstairs to their rooms.

Arabella looked around and saw the hall had been decorated in holly, ivy and mistletoe, and a giant Christmas tree stood in a corner, lighted candles twinkling on the branches. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace, with turf smells filling the air.

“The family is in the drawing room, sir,” said Barton as he led them across the hallway and opened the door for them.

Arabella held her breath as she followed Harrison in.

“There you are!” said Margaret, coming to greet and hug them. “Arabella, we’re delighted to have you!”

“And thank you for having me,” said Arabella, looking around the room.

There was Lawrence at the fireplace, smiling warmly as Gwyneth followed her mother to embrace them. Daphne was waving at them and smiling as she put the final touches to another giant Christmas tree in the corner of that room. Emily was sitting and observing them coolly and making no move to greet them. James was pouring himself a large brandy.

But no Charles. Where was Charles?

“Awful for you to be separated from your family for Christmas. You suffer terrible sea sickness, they say?” said Margaret as she led her to the couch.

“I’m afraid so,” said Arabella as she sat down.

“I hope it’s not hereditary?” Margaret was concerned.

“Mother fears you may pass it on to her grandchildren when you and Harrison have children!” said Emily. “Any slight disadvantage would be much disapproved of.”

“Emily!” warned Margaret.

Arabella started laughing. “No need to worry, Lady Margaret. The rest of my family do not appear to share my dislike of sea travel.”

“Oh, good!” smiled Margaret. “I often find people who suffer sea sickness can have a poor constitution. But come, my dear, I shall personally escort you to your room. You will need to rest and change before we have dinner.”

Arabella looked around the resplendent Blue Room which was at the front of the house and offered breathtaking views down the terraced gardens and across the lake.

There was a soirée that night and neighbouring gentry families would be attending, if the snow permitted. She had spent days choosing what outfits to bring with her. Now she changed into a deep red gown which was low-cut and exposed her shoulders and arms. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she knew it wasn’t a dress to impress a future mother-in-law with Lady Margaret’s tastes. But it was a dress that would grab a man like Charles’ attention.

As she heard the merriment and laughter on the other side of the drawing-room door, she thought Charles must be there by now.

She walked in. As she made her way through the smiling guests, her dress attracted admiring and surprised smiles.

“Ah there you are, my dear,” said Margaret as she came over to her. “And what a – remarkable dress.”

Gwyneth was full of admiration. “I think it’s splendid! I’m going to get one just like it.”

“Not until after the wedding to the Duke,” advised Margaret, looking at Arabella’s bare shoulders. “We don’t want you catching cold.”

“It’s from Paris,” said Arabella.

“Yes,” said Margaret. “The French are always so forward with their fashion.” She then took Arabella by the arm and led her around. “Mr and Mrs Foxe, this is Miss Arabella Tattinger, Harrison’s fiancée. Mr and Mrs Foxe are from the neighbouring estate, Arabella.”

Arabella’s eyes searched the crowd as she was introduced to everyone. But there was still no sign of Charles.

The snow was still pelting heavily against the windows as Margaret ordered Barton to close the curtains in the drawing room. As the wine and sherry continued to be served, the party was becoming merrier. Christmas songs were being played on the piano and the conversation was loud and jolly around the room. Arabella looked at the clock on the wall and saw it was nearly ten o’clock.

“The last few months have been so busy,” Gwyneth confided in Arabella. “Organising the wedding, you know.”

“I can imagine,” said Arabella.

“Myself and Mother returned from London last week where I did the final fittings for the wedding dress.”

“Spectacular, I’m sure.”

“The wedding will be here at Armstrong House, of course.”

As Gwyneth discussed the minutiae of her pending nuptials, Arabella began to realise there was a very good chance Charles was away for Christmas. Nobody had said he would be there, and she hadn’t asked, only assumed.

“I was in a dilemma because the church in the village is small, and the Duke has such a wide circle who will need to make the journey here. We debated about being married at Battington Hall and having the service nearby at Salisbury Cathedral. But Mother said a bride must be wed at her family home, otherwise it looks as if she has something to hide.”

“Sound advice.”

“What arrangements have you decided on for your own wedding?”

“Where is Charles?” Arabella suddenly blurted out.

“Charles?” Gwyneth looked around the room, unaware he wasn’t present. “He set off this morning and hasn’t been seen since. I hope he’s not stranded somewhere with the snow.”

Arabella felt relief. At least he would be there for Christmas.

At that moment the door opened and in walked Charles, looking calm and cool.

“Charles! What kept you?” demanded Lawrence.

“Detained on estate business, Father,” explained Charles, as he joined the men at the fireplace and took a glass of brandy from Barton. “The snow is settling in. I hope it won’t affect the hunt.”

Just then Harrison appeared.

“Oh, hello, Harrison!” said Charles. “Happy Christmas!”

“You too!” Harrison grabbed him and pulled him across the room. “And look who is down with me!”

Arabella steadied herself as she saw Harrison lead Charles over to her.

“Look, Arabella, it’s Charles!” announced Harrison.

“So I can see – Merry Christmas, Charles.” She nodded and smiled at him.

“Yes – indeed,” Charles said.

Arabella smiled at him. And she realised her worst fears were true. She had not imagined the feelings he stirred in her.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to see to my guests,” said Charles and he turned and walked away.

“His guests!” Gwyneth laughed. “I thought they were Mama and Papa’s guests!”

“Well, as their heir, I suppose he has a duty to them as well,” said Harrison.

“He certainly seems to be settling into his role here. I never thought he would,” said Gwyneth.

“Oh, I think Charles could settle into any role he wanted to, if he put his mind to it,” said Arabella as she watched him mingle and charm a circle of women.

It was after midnight before everyone drifted off home.

Arabella had noticed Charles had slipped off to bed without saying goodnight.

“Well, I think everyone should be making their way to sleep shortly,” advised Margaret. “We don’t need sleepy heads on Christmas morning.”

“Thank you for everything,” said Arabella.

“Goodnight, my dear.” Margaret kissed Arabella on the cheek before kissing Gwyneth and Harrison.

“Happy Christmas, my dears,” said Lawrence as he linked Margaret’s arm to lead her from the room.

At the door Margaret turned. “Straight to bed everyone, yes?”

“Yes Mother!” said Harrison and Gwyneth together.

“She’s making sure we’re not left alone!” laughed Harrison to Arabella.

“I hope she’s not suggesting any impropriety would take place?” Arabella was affronted.

“No. She’s just taking being your guardian for the week quite seriously,” said Gwyneth as they left the room and walked across the darkened hall and up the stairs. The house was quiet, only the odd crackle from the fireplace in the hall disturbing the silence.

Upstairs, Gwyneth walked along in front of them down a corridor to her room.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am you are here,” said Harrison as he paused at Arabella’s door.

“Goodnight, Arabella!” called Gwyneth down the hall as she opened her door.

“Goodnight,” said Arabella as she opened her own.

Harrison looked at her and hesitated before reaching forward and kissing her very quickly and lightly on the lips. Then he hurried down to his room.

Margaret was putting on her face cream at her dressing table as Lawrence got into bed.

“I have to say that dress Arabella was wearing was quite risqué,” she said. “And I do find it odd that her parents didn’t insist she go to New York, sea sickness or no sea sickness. I wouldn’t let Gwyneth go to Battington Hall before she was married unless I accompanied her.”

“Well, the Tattingers are a little less formal than us, I suspect.”

“Well, she will have to get used to our ways when she marries Harrison.”

Arabella looked at the dress which was now back hanging in the wardrobe. It had failed to capture any of Charles’ attention. She closed the wardrobe door and got into bed where she lay studying the flames from the fire flickering against the wooden panels of the wall.

chapter 9

Margaret was quite relieved when Arabella came into the drawing room the next morning dressed in a traditionally elegant dress. As Arabella observed the Armstrong family excitedly open their beautifully wrapped presents from under the tree, she knew they were a tightly knit family with much love between them. Only Charles, regardless of being sociable and charming with them, seemed set apart from them. Even Emily with her stubborn streak and James with his wild nature looked very much part of the family.

“This is for you,” said Harrison as he handed Arabella a beautifully wrapped box. Arabella unwrapped the paper and, opening the box, saw a brooch sitting on a velvet base. She smiled her gratitude to him, but he seemed more excited about the brooch than she was. She gave him her present of cufflinks and he was delighted with them.

They all travelled through the snow to church in the nearby village in a series of carriages. Charles continued to ignore her.

In the afternoon in the dining room, when a Christmas feast of turkey and goose was being served, Charles chose to sit at the far end of the table from her.

“Is the snow going to affect the hunt tomorrow?” asked Harrison, concerned.

“It will take place as normal,” said Lawrence.

“I’m looking forward to it,” said Arabella.

“You’re going on the hunt?” Margaret was surprised.

“Oh yes, when I visit my cousin’s estate in Kildare, I always go on the hunt,” said Arabella.

“Did you bring your riding costume?” asked Charles.

Arabella was surprised. It was the first time he had addressed her since she had arrived, apart from their initial greeting. She looked down at him and his eyes were cool and slightly mocking. “Yes, I came prepared.”

After dinner the family went for their traditional walk down through the terraced gardens until they reached the lakeshore and then they walked along it.

Arabella purposely left Harrison behind talking to Daphne as she caught up with Charles and tried to engage him in conversation.

“Although I’ve attended hunts before, I’m not very good. I usually get left behind and have to make my own way back!” she said and laughed lightly.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” he said and walked on quickly to join Emily, leaving Arabella behind.

By that night Arabella was fit to explode. She couldn’t bear Charles’ indifference to her and his subtle rudeness. Whatever these feelings he had created in her, she couldn’t let the situation continue. She needed to apologise and return their relationship to something somewhat civil, for Harrison’s sake if nothing else.

On Christmas night, the family was in the drawing room playing parlour games. Arabella kept an eye on Charles throughout, waiting for an opportunity. She got it when she saw him get up, whisper something to his father, and leave the room. She waited a minute and then sneaked out.

She looked down the hall and up the stairs and saw no sign of him. She walked across the hall to the small parlour and opened the door to see him standing by the fireplace lighting a cigarette. She took a deep breath, walked in and closed the door behind her.

“Oh, this is where you are hiding, is it?” she smiled as she walked into the room towards him.

“Not hiding, just trying to escape being dragged into any more games,” he said.

“I just wanted to check how you are,” she said. “We’ve hardly spoken two words since I arrived.”

“I’m very well, thank you.”

She felt terribly awkward. “Charles, I really wanted to apologise about the last time we met.”

“Whatever for?”

“I said some things that were – unkind – and I had no right to say them.”

“You had every right to express how you felt, and you did.”

“But . . . ”

“But what?”

“So it is as I thought then? You have stopped coming to Dublin because of what I said.”

“I’m not in the habit of staying in a place where I’m not wanted, or keeping the company of people who do not like or – trust – me. Those were the words you used, I remember.”

“And, as you said, the house in Merrion Square is yours and Dublin is a free city. I have no right to make you feel you can’t go there. I’m sorry, Charles.”

He looked at her for a long time. “You have no idea, do you?”

“Idea about what?”

“It’s not Merrion Square or Dublin I wanted to visit.”

“Well, then – Harrison! I have no right keeping you from seeking your brother’s company. He loves you very much and –”

“It’s you!” His voice rose before returning to a whisper. “It’s you I wanted to see. Your company I was seeking. You I needed to see all the time.”

“I don’t . . .” Arabella was trying to absorb the enormity of the words he was saying.

“Arabella . . .” He moved towards her.

Her hand suddenly rose into the air and she slapped him hard across the face, before turning and running from the room.

She quickly crossed the hall to the drawing-room door and waited for a while. She forced herself to become calm and steadied herself before opening the door and walking in. They were still playing games and playing music. She walked calmly across the room and sat beside Harrison on the couch.

“Are you all right? You look flushed?” he said, concerned.

“I’m fine, perfectly fine,” she said, smiling, as Charles walked casually into the room and went and stood by the fireplace. She could see the red mark on his face from her slap and hoped no one else would notice it. As he looked at her, she had to turn away as she felt her heart thump and her face redden.

chapter 10

The Armstrong Hunt was one of the most renowned in the country and an invitation to it was like gold dust. As Arabella changed into her riding clothes the next morning, the hunt had already gathered in the forecourt. She’d had her breakfast delivered to her room, sure she couldn’t sit at the same table as Charles. She fastened the buttons of her short black tunic over her white blouse and the long black skirt and put on her black top hat.

She had found it very hard to sleep the previous night as she relived the scene in the parlour with Charles, his words dancing through her mind over and over again. The words that disgusted and excited her.

She left her room and went downstairs and out to the forecourt. The forecourt was filled with riders on their horses, while the pack of hounds excitedly scurried around.

“Tom, bring Miss Tattinger’s horse over,” commanded Lawrence when he saw her and he rode over to her.

The groom assisted Arabella up onto the horse.

“I’ll probably slow you down!” warned Arabella, as she spotted Charles talking merrily to a few men.

“Nonsense, you’re a fine horsewoman,” said Harrison, mounting his own horse.

Gwyneth and Daphne came over on their horses.

“Emily refuses to come,” said Gwyneth. “As usual.”

There was much mingling and then suddenly the horses started trotting out of the forecourt and down the driveway.

“We’ll head over to Knockmora, and then on to the meadows,” called Lawrence who was leading the hunt, and the horses started trotting off at a faster rate.

As the hunt gathered pace, Arabella tried not to look at Charles, but every time she looked at him she found him already looking at her. They all trotted through the countryside until the horn blew strong.

“We’re off!” shouted Harrison as the hounds made a dash across the fields after a fox in the distance. The horses quickly took off after them.

Arabella found herself falling behind. Charles looked back and nodded to her and suddenly she saw him break away from the group and ride towards a wood. Nobody else seemed to have spotted him as they concentrated on the fox. Arabella saw him pause at the wood and look at her before his horse disappeared in amongst the trees. She was falling even further behind as she paused to decide what to do next. She pulled on the reins and directed the horse towards the wood.

The wood was large and expansive, snow draped across the branches of the trees. She followed a pathway and continued further and further until she came to a small clearing and saw Charles standing there holding the reins of his horse, waiting for her.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said as she approached him.

“I wasn’t sure either,” she said.

He came to help her dismount and as he caught her by the waist she felt a thrill at his touch.

Standing, she gazed up at him. “What you said last night . . .”

“I meant every word.”

“But it’s impossible! What you said is impossible, in every sense.”

“Why?”

“You know why! Harrison. If the truth be told, I guessed you had feelings for me, but I wasn’t sure how deep. I thought you were playing games with me.”

“Never!”

“And I was frightened of my own feelings for you . . . But the truth is – since you stopped coming to Dublin, there’s been a huge gap in my life, in me. I didn’t understand it at first. I thought it would go away. But no matter what I did, the gap got bigger. And nothing could fill it, not parties, or my family, or a trip to New York, or even Harrison . . . especially Harrison!”

His eyes began to sparkle as he heard the words. “So what are we going to do?”

“What can we do? Nothing. We have to fight these feelings and get on with our lives. It can go nowhere, for obvious reasons.”

“Why then – why did you come to Armstrong House for Christmas if you wanted to ignore what was going on between us?”

“I – I – don’t know . . . I have to go. Harrison will be wondering where I’ve got to. Come and help me mount.”

He came quickly behind her, turned her around and began to kiss her forcibly.

She escaped him for a second, and then she grabbed the back of his head and started to kiss him back.

“Arabella! Arabella!” they heard faintly in the distance.

Arabella quickly pushed Charles away. “It’s Harrison!” she said and turned to mount.

“When will I see you again?” he asked urgently as he helped her.

“At dinner tonight, I expect.” She turned the horse around.

“You know what I mean!” he insisted.

She tapped her whip against the horse’s flank and it took off through the wood.

As she emerged from the wood she saw Harrison surveying the rolling countryside, luckily with his back to her. She trotted in his direction.

He turned as he heard her approach. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” he called.

“I’m so sorry, Harrison. I got left behind and was totally lost.”

“Come on, let’s join the others. They lost the fox – they’re gathered on the top of the hill.”

Back at the edge of the wood, Charles smiled to himself as he watched them ride off. His plan had worked spectacularly.

After the hunt everyone came back to Armstrong House for food and drinks.

Arabella sat shivering in the drawing room even though the fires were blazing as Gwyneth wittered on about the Duke and her wedding. Arabella wasn’t listening to a word as she sat bewildered about what had happened with Charles in the wood.

Harrison came over to her. “You’re very quiet this evening, are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want me to get you anything?”

“No.”

“You’re shivering!” he said, putting an arm around her.

“I’m just a little cold.”

“I’ll fetch you a shawl.”

“No need.”

“Every need.”

“For goodness sake, Harrison, stop fussing!” she snapped. “You’re worse than your mother!”

Harrison’s face clouded with hurt.

“I’m sorry, Harrison. I just don’t feel very well . . . I think I’ll go to bed early.” She got up and left the room.

Margaret saw Harrison looking concerned and walked over to him, asking, “Where is Arabella going?”

“To bed. I think she must have caught a cold out on the hunt.”

“More likely from the dress she was wearing the other evening!” mused Margaret.

Arabella dimmed the lights in her room and tried to block out the noise coming from the party downstairs. As midnight came and went the laughter and chatter petered out.

She looked out her window and saw the last of the carriages and horses of the guests leave as the snow started to fall again. The house fell into silence as everyone went to bed. She paced up and down as the fire in the hearth kept the room in a warm glow. She would cut short her stay at Armstrong House and return to Dublin first thing in the morning. She had treaded into very dangerous territory and she had lost control.

There was a quiet knock on her door. Startled, she ignored it. The knock came again. She walked across the room and opened the door.

Charles was standing there.

“Charles! Are you mad, somebody will see!” she hissed, glancing up and down the corridor. He quickly entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“Charles, if anyone should discover you here, I’d be ruined!”

“I can’t leave, not without knowing what is to become of us.”

She started pacing up and down again. “Nothing will happen, because nothing can happen. I’m to marry your brother next year. We have no right. I blame myself as much as you – more so, in fact – I should have kept away.”

“And how would you have filled that gap in your life you were telling me about?”

“I would just ignore it.”

“Until it became bigger and bigger and would end by swallowing you up.”

“It is, as I said, impossible. If I had met you first, maybe we might have had a future. I wish I had met you first – I wish I had never met you at all!”

She stopped pacing and stood looking into the fire, rubbing her hands against her temples.

He walked slowly to her and carefully put his arms around her.

“Go, Charles, please just go! We can never be together.”

He turned back and locked the door. Then he led her over to the bed, kissing her, and whispered: “This might be the only way we can be together.”

Charles heard the clock down in the hallway chime six times. He was lying on his back in Arabella’s bed, her hand lying across his chest as he held her close. The fire was dying in the fireplace as the snow outside continued to fall against the window.

“I’d better go – the servants will be up soon,” he said.

“Do you feel ashamed and guilty?” she asked as she concentrated on the dying embers in the fireplace.

“No – why should I?”

“Because Harrison is fast asleep a few rooms down from here.”

“What do you want me to say? That I do feel guilty? Then that makes me a bastard. And if I say I don’t? Then that makes me a bastard as well!”

“And I wonder what it all makes me?”

He kissed her forehead.

“I’m trying hard to feel guilty and ashamed myself,” she said.

He pushed her away and got of bed and started to dress.

“Promise me one thing, Charles?” she said, sitting up frantically. “Promise me Harrison will never find out.”

“Of course he can never find out!” He bent over and kissed her and then left.

Arabella didn’t know what the night had made her. All she knew was she had smashed every rule in the rule book. Torn it up and thrown it into the fire. She wasn’t sure how it all had happened. Yet as she dressed to go down to breakfast, she felt happier than she had in a long time.

Harrison was full of concern in the dining room. “How do you feel this morning?”

“Oh, much better, thank you,” she said, smiling at everyone at the table.

“You probably just needed a good night,” smirked Charles from across the table, and he continued to read his newspaper.

Later, in the drawing room, Arabella was standing at the window looking out at the newly fallen layer of snow.

“They’ve all gone skating down on the lake – a good part of it is frozen over,” said Charles as he came up behind her and stood at her side.

“So I believe.”

“I need to see you tonight,” he whispered.

She paused for a few moments and then said, “Yes.”

“You’ll have to come to me.”

“What?”

“Your room is too risky. It’s too near the stairs – there are too many people up and down. My room is at the end of the corridor, much safer . . . Well?”

“All right,” she said.

That night Arabella waited until half twelve before she slipped out of her room. She looked up and down the corridor and, seeing it was empty, with her heart pounding she hurried down the corridor and knocked gently on Charles’ door. There was no answer and she knocked again louder.

“Charles!” she whispered through the door.

Eventually the door opened, and she rushed in.

“What took you so long? I could have been spotted!” she said, shivering with nerves at the thought of being caught.

“Sorry, I must have dozed off.”

They stood there looking at each other, and then she rushed to him.

The days passed over the Christmas period at Armstrong House with a series of lunches, dinners, walks along the lake, or horse riding. But the nights were all that Arabella could think of as she waited for them to arrive. By the end of the week, Arabella realised her infatuation with Charles had almost become a fever with her. As she observed the Armstrongs she realised what a happy family they were in their privileged world. She realised what she was doing with Charles could blow this happy family to smithereens, and yet she continued with the secret glances and snatched clandestine conversations with Charles during the day. And continued to make the journey down to his room each night when she was content the house was silent and everyone had gone to their rooms. It was only for the week, she told herself. A quick affair that would burn itself out and she would go back to life as normal with Harrison. And yet her feelings were so strong she already knew this could never happen. She had crossed barriers she never thought possible for her.

It was the night before New Year’s Eve. He stroked her hair as she lay in bed and they heard the clock downstairs chime six times, the sound she had come to dread as she knew it indicated the time she had to leave him.

Emily was in her room, tossing and turning. She had been unable to get to sleep that night. She wondered if the cook was up yet and whether she could make her some warm milk to lull her to sleep for a few hours at least.

I suppose I could always try making it myself – it can’t be that difficult, she said to herself as she got out of bed and put on her dressing gown. She opened her door and walked down the corridor. She loved Armstrong House at this time in the early morning. There was so much activity during the day with people coming and going, and now there was just silence.

She was surprised to hear a door open and turned to see who else was up.

To her astonishment she saw Arabella come out of Charles’ room, in her dressing gown. She watched in shock as Arabella closed the door after her and began to hurry down the corridor.

Arabella stopped and stood rigid as she saw Emily standing there glaring at her.

The two stared at each other, both standing stock-still and silent.

Arabella was the first to move. She quickly continued to walk down the corridor, past Emily who she didn’t acknowledge, to her room which she entered, closing the door firmly behind her.

Emily continued to stand stock-still in shock and she tried to comprehend what she had witnessed.

It was ten the next morning and Arabella was sitting on her bed, her face in her hands. She knew they were all having breakfast downstairs, no doubt wondering where she was, but she couldn’t face going down and seeing Emily. She felt pure panic at the thought.

There was a knock on her door. “Arabella!” Harrison called. “Aren’t you coming down for breakfast?”

“Just coming!” She tried to sound happy as she stood up and went to the door.

Harrison was waiting for her.

“I said to let you have a lie-in, but Mother said you needed to eat breakfast to set you up for the day,” explained Harrison as they walked along the corridor to the top of the stairs.

“What, to play more card games and discuss Gwyneth’s wedding plans again?” she asked.

Harrison was embarrassed. “I didn’t realise we bored you!”

As they reached the hall at the bottom of the stairs she stopped and looked at him. “I’m sorry, Harrison, that was ungrateful of me. I’ve enjoyed the week immensely.”

He nodded and led her into the dining room where the rest of the family were finishing their breakfast.

“Good morning!” said Margaret.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” said Arabella.

Arabella looked down the table. Emily was sitting at the end of the table, her face pale, staring at the food in front of her.

“Emily! Sit up and eat up!” ordered Margaret.

Emily straightened her shoulders and, picking up her fork, started to play with her food. Then she suddenly pushed her chair back and rushed from the room. “Emily!” called her mother but she was gone. “That girl!” she sighed. “I despair of ever teaching her any manners!”

Arabella’s heart sank at Emily’s lack of control – she felt it was only a matter of time before she exposed her.

After breakfast she approached Charles in the hall.

“I need to speak to you urgently!” she whispered.

“What about?”

“Where can I meet you that we can talk in private?”

“Go for a walk into the gardens of the first terrace. I’ll meet you by the fountain at two.”

Arabella found it hard to escape Harrison’s constant attention for the day. She pretended she needed to have a lie-down in the afternoon, but instead quickly put on her coat, hat and gloves and headed for the rendezvous point with Charles. She walked along to the extensive gardens that led from the first terrace to the maze of footpaths and shrubberies until she found the fountain, which was frozen over and still covered in snow. She waited impatiently for him, walking round and round the fountain until he arrived.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, seeing her panic-stricken face.

“Emily! She saw me coming out of your room this morning!”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure! She stood there staring at me as if she had seen a ghost!”

Charles spotted a gardener tending to some snow-covered plants.

“Let’s walk,” he suggested and they set off, walking through the pathways of the gardens.

“What are we going to do, Charles?” Arabella pleaded. “If she tells anybody, I’ll be ruined, and Harrison will be destroyed and your whole family will be –”

“She said nothing?” he interrupted.

“Not a word. She just stared at me in silence.”

“At least it wasn’t Gwyneth or Daphne who saw you.”

“But what will Emily do?”

“I’ll go and talk to her.”

“Charles, we’ve been playing with fire and now we’re going to burn!” said Arabella and turning she put her hand on his chest.

“Arabella, the gardener!” Charles nodded over at the man who was wheeling a wheelbarrow nearby. Arabella quickly removed her hand and they continued walking.

Charles hovered outside Emily’s door before knocking. There was no answer and so he knocked again.

“Emily – it’s Charles,” he said through the door.

He waited and a moment later heard the door being unlocked. It opened slightly. He pushed it back and stepped inside.

Emily was standing at an easel, painting.

“What are you painting?” he asked.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” suggested Emily who didn’t look at him once as she continued her work.

Charles walked over and saw she was painting a portrait of him.

“I didn’t realise you were painting me,” he said, surprised.

“I’ve been working on it for a couple of months.”

“It’s very good – if a little flattering!”

He walked around the room and picked up a book written by Karl Marx.

“Marx!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t realise you were a communist.”

“I find his thoughts interesting.”

He put the book down. “Emily . . . what you saw this morning . . .”

“Arabella coming out of your room in her dressing gown?”

“Eh – yes – it’s not what it may seem –”

“I know exactly what it seems and what it is.” She stopped painting and put down her paint brush. “You’ve been seducing her behind Harrison’s back!”

“You don’t understand –”

“Don’t I? Because it all looks very clear to me.” She walked over to him. “Harrison is engaged to her, Charles. How could you?”

“Do you think I planned any of this?”

“How long has it been going on?”

“Only this week. Just this week, I swear.”

“Harrison has to know what kind of a woman he’s mixed up with.”

Charles became panicked. “Emily, you must never tell anybody what you saw, do you understand me? There’s too much at stake. Nobody can ever find out, do you hear me?”

“But –”

He turned from her, walked to the window and looked out. “I thought you and I were always the closest. I thought we understood each other.”

“Yes – but this is different!”

“So were you lying to me that day when we went out riding?” He turned and looked at her, his face full of hurt. “Remember? When you said I could always rely on you. And you thought I was seeing a married woman and said you would cover for me, help me, act as a go-between even.”

“But that was before I realised the wronged man was Harrison!”

“So you’re choosing him over me?”

“No – but –”

He picked up the Marx book. “And everything you pretend you are – unconventional, rebellious – that’s just all an act, is it?”

“But you must see!”

“I see I’m in love with Arabella and she is in love with me.”

Emily sat down on the bed. “Oh Charles! Of all the women to fall in love with!”

“We couldn’t help it. And now she is returning to Dublin in a couple of days and I might never see her again, only at family occasions when she’s married to Harrison.”

He sat down on the bed and put his face in his hands, then reached up and grabbed her hand.

“Oh Charles!” Emily put her arms around him and held him tightly.

“I know she’s Harrison’s,” he said. “I know they can never break up, because it would destroy him. All I’m asking for is some time with her – is that too much to ask?”

“I suppose not . . .”

“And what Harrison never knows won’t hurt him.”

“But it’s so dangerous!”

“I can’t keep away from her, Emily. Not yet.” Charles started sobbing.

“All right – you know you can rely on me. I will cover for you. I’ll say nothing. And when she returns to Dublin, she can write to me to plan your assignations.”

“Emily! I can’t ask that you do that!”

“I insist. As you said, there’s no point in me pretending to be something if I don’t follow it through. You and Arabella are in love, and I will help you. I told you before I would help and now I will – even if it is with Harrison’s fiancée.”

“Thanks, Emily,” he said, wiping away a tear.

There was a knock on Arabella’s door that night. She put on her dressing gown and went to open it.

“Charles!” she said as he quickly entered and closed the door behind him.

“Did you speak to Emily? What did she say?” she asked frantically.

“It’s fine. Calm down,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Is she going to tell Harrison?”

“No, we’re safe. She has no intention of telling Harrison or anybody else.”

Arabella’s body visibly relaxed. “How can you be sure?”

“Because I know my sister. She understands what we’re going through, she’s quite sympathetic.”

“Is she?” Arabella was puzzled.

“I explained to her we are in love and in an impossible situation.”

His words surprised and delighted her. She was hugely relieved that he felt the same as she did.

She sat down on the bed. “I couldn’t have coped if he found out . . . So I suppose this is it . . . we return to Dublin tomorrow.”

“It doesn’t have to be the end.”

“It has to be. What we had was very special and now must end. We must go back to our normal lives.”

“We don’t have to. Emily has agreed to cover for us. We can arrange to meet through her.”

“No, I couldn’t continue with this, Charles. I couldn’t continue to deceive Harrison. I’ve been in a state of terror all day fearing exposure.”

He sat beside her and smiled. “And isn’t that half the fun? The risk involved? The secrecy of it all. And now with Emily’s help we can continue.”

“No!” she snapped and got up and looked out the window.

“Then I’ll go. And we won’t make contact. Is that what you want?” he asked, moving towards the door. He had his hand on the door handle and was opening it when she turned around.

“I don’t want you to go – stay.”

The footmen were bringing Harrison and Arabella’s luggage out to the waiting carriage as the family stood on the steps to say goodbye.

“You’re in plenty of time for the train in Castlewest. It always runs late anyway,” said Lawrence.

“Thank you for everything,” said Arabella as she kissed Lawrence and Margaret goodbye.

Daphne and Jack were next to be kissed then she found herself in front of Charles.

“Goodbye, Charles,” she said as she kissed him quickly on the cheek and moved on to Gwyneth.

“Don’t forget my wedding is in March. Put it in your diary,” said Gwyneth.

“I will.” Arabella moved on to Emily, feeling herself blush. “Goodbye, Emily.”

“I wish you a safe journey back to Dublin.” Emily fixed her with a knowing look. “We’ll write to each other.”

Arabella nodded and quickly walked out the front door with Harrison.

“Write to each other?” asked Margaret. “I didn’t think you spoke two words to each other when Arabella was here.”

chapter 11

Suddenly Emily found her life had a new sense of purpose. Excitement and danger had entered it in the most unexpected way. She was now so much more than just a troublesome youngest daughter. She had a secret. A scandalous, terrible, wonderful secret that would shock everyone if they knew. And she was being entrusted with it. She had always worshipped Charles, always sought his attention, longed for his approval. And now he needed her desperately.

She found him looking at her through new eyes. He respected her now. Together they plotted and planned their next move with Arabella.

“Why don’t I write to her and tell her you’re coming to Dublin this weekend?” suggested Emily as they rode side by side through the estate.

“The trouble is, in Dublin at weekends she’s with Harrison all the time. We won’t have any time together. And then she has to stay at her parents at night obviously.”

“Hmmm . . .” Emily thought hard. “The reality is Armstrong House is the best destination for a rendezvous. You are both staying under the same roof, so there are more opportunities.”

“Well, she and Harrison are not going to make the trip down here every weekend. I don’t think her parents will permit it now they are back from New York. Besides, it might be suspicious.”

“Yes, you’re right. I’ll write to her and tell her you’ll be in Dublin this weekend.”

Arabella was in a state of shock when she arrived back home. Shocked with herself. She had broken every convention and rule. She’d had intercourse before marriage. She’d had intercourse with a man she was not even betrothed to. And he was the brother of her fiancé. Her betrayal of herself, her family and most of all Harrison overwhelmed her.

Her family arrived back from New York in joyous spirits and laden down with presents for her. She found it hard to even look them in the eye.

And yet Arabella found herself anxiously awaiting the post each morning for something from Emily.

When one morning she saw a letter addressed to her in writing she didn’t recognise, she knew it was from Emily. She grabbed the letter and raced to her bedroom and locked the door. She tore open the envelope and began to read the letter.

Armstrong House

12th January 1889

Dear Arabella,

It was so lovely to have you here at Christmas. I really hope you enjoyed your stay as much as we did. The hunt season is in full swing now. The Seymours’ hunt was at the weekend . . .

Arabella read the letter quickly and saw it was full of idle chat about happenings at Armstrong House and then she read: What news is there from Dublin? Charles says he misses Dublin considerably. In fact he is due to travel to Dublin this weekend . . .

Arabella threw down the letter. She was overjoyed at the thought of seeing him again. But did he expect things to be like they had been? Did he think he could just accompany her and Harrison to the theatre and restaurants and carry on as if nothing had happened, waiting for snatched moments when they could be alone together? Charles might be that good an actor, but she wasn’t.

She quickly went to her writing bureau and started writing. As Emily had done she filled the letter up with non-consequential items and then she wrote: It’s so nice Charles is coming to Dublin this weekend. Unfortunately I have a packed itinerary with Harrison, so we won’t be able to meet him. I’ll be exhausted by the end of it! I plan to have a nice relaxing day on my own on Monday. I’m going to The Shelbourne Hotel for afternoon tea at two o’clock . . .

Emily showed Charles the letter when she received it.

“You’re to meet her in The Shelbourne at two on Monday,” she informed him.

“The Shelbourne for afternoon tea!” said Charles dismissively.

“These are her terms obviously. She doesn’t want to or can’t see you over the weekend.”

“Write back to her and say The Shelbourne on a Monday sounds like a superb way to pass the time.”

Arabella requested a corner table in The Shelbourne and sat nervously as the waitress poured tea from the silver teapot into a china cup and cut her a slice of the Victoria sponge that sat on a cake-stand on the table. Looking at the other tables filled with elegant people chatting, she wondered what they would all think of her if they knew the reason for her being there.

She saw Charles enter the tearoom. He surveyed the room and, seeing her, came over.

“Arabella, what a pleasant surprise! Fancy meeting you here! Do you mind if I join you?”

“Please do,” nodded Arabella and he sat on the seat opposite her. She poured him tea.

“So how are you?” he asked in a lower voice.

“As good as can be expected.”

“I could have come for the whole weekend.”

“I wrote to Emily that you were not to.”

“I know. Why not?”

She looked at him incredulously “Why not? Why do you think, you fool! I can’t gad around town with you and Harrison like we used to. I’m consumed with guilt as it is! Every time I look at him, I am so ashamed. Don’t you feel guilty?”

“No. I don’t. The only thing I care about is seeing you.”

She shook her head in despair. “So you want this – affair – to continue?”

“Of course I do!” He reached over and took her hand.

She quickly pulled it back and looked around to make sure nobody had spotted the action.

He sat back. “I’ve booked a room upstairs. You can follow me there. Room 132.”

“You expect me to go to a hotel room with you, like some – some common streetwalker!”

“No. A streetwalker would be on the street, and not in a luxurious boudoir.”

She shook her head at him. “How can you be so flippant?”

“Because that’s who I am.”

They sat in silence.

“I’m expected home for dinner at six,” she said then.

“That’s fine. I have to catch the seven o’clock train back to Castlewest.”

She sat there in disarray, her heart thumping, while he gazed at her assessingly.

At last he spoke. “It’s a choice between an afternoon of champagne, strawberries and the man who loves you, or . . .” he glanced down at the cake sitting on the table, “. . . an afternoon of Victoria sponge on your own.”

He stood up and walked out of the tearoom.

Arabella waited ten minutes, then paid the bill, and left the tearoom. She slowly walked through the hotel foyer and reception. She walked up the stairs expecting somebody to stop her and ask her to leave. Hoping somebody would. But they didn’t. She got to Room 132, hesitated, and then knocked quietly on the door.

chapter 12

Emily came into Charles’ room holding a letter.

“What news from Arabella?” asked Charles.

“She says that she and her parents are going to the races in Kildare next weekend, and that Harrison won’t be with them.”

“What an opportunity!”

“She writes they are staying at the Imperial Hotel.”

“Sounds like an invitation to me, Emily! Go choose your best frocks. We’re off to the races!”

“We?” asked Emily, her eyes opening wide.

“Of course, you need a bit of excitement too. Besides, you’ll be the perfect cover for us.”

“Mama will never allow it,” Emily cautioned, excitement overcoming her at the thought of escaping for a couple of days from Armstrong House.

“You just leave Mama to me.” He winked at her.

The race course was packed with people as Charles and Emily made their way through the crowd.

“Any sign of them?” he asked, peering through the people.

“There they are!” exclaimed Emily, pointing.

Caroline and George were walking through the throng, with Arabella, who was wearing a cream dress with a tightly fitted bodice and carrying a cream parasol.

“Charles!” exclaimed Caroline, seeing them.

“You distract the parents,” whispered Charles to Emily.

“We didn’t know you were coming to the races,” said George.

“Last-minute decision. And look who’s with me – dearest little Emily!” said Charles, as Emily stepped forward.

Caroline was delighted. “Arabella, it’s Emily. You’ve become such good friends, haven’t you? There’s often a letter waiting for Arabella from Armstrong House on the sideboard.”

“Hello, dear Arabella!” Emily said in an overly friendly sing-song voice.

“Hello,” said Arabella, trying to keep the nerves out of hers.

“Where are you staying?” asked George.

“At the Imperial,” said Charles.

“So are we!” said Caroline.

“Oh, what a lovely brooch, Lady Tattinger,” said Emily as she moved towards her to examine the piece of jewellery.

“Thank you! I got it in New York.”

“Tell me all about New York,” said Emily as she cornered George and Caroline.

Charles went and stood beside Arabella.

“What room are you staying in?” he asked in a whisper.

“Room 22.”

“I’ll come to you tonight.”

“No! My mother will be in the next room!”

“Well – when then?” he asked impatiently.

“We are to go out to dinner at nine. I’ll tell them I have one of my headaches and won’t go with them . . . come to my room then.”

And the letters kept being sent, and the meetings kept on being arranged, and the weeks flew by. Emily’s approaching birthday offered another opportunity.

Arabella was in the dining room having breakfast with her parents. Caroline was opening her post.

“Here’s a letter from Emily,” said Caroline in surprise.

“Emily?” Arabella dropped her spoon.

“Emily Armstrong,” confirmed Caroline.

Arabella, thinking her mother had opened her letter by mistake, reached out to grab it.

“The letter is for me,” insisted Caroline, pulling it back from her daughter.

“What does she want?” asked Arabella, trying to conceal the fact that she was panic-stricken.

“It’s her birthday next weekend and she’s invited me, your father and you to her party. Isn’t that nice of her? She says Harrison will be there and her mother invites us to stay at Armstrong House. I know Emily can come across as a bit surly, but she’s a sweet girl, I believe.”

Arabella wondered what Charles was up to and dreaded the thought of going. Her snatched meetings with him were one thing. But to be in the same house as Harrison, her parents, his family? To brazenly face them all over breakfast, lunch and dinner and pretend nothing was happening between her and Charles? She had done it at the start of their affair, borne along by the euphoria of their newly awakened passion, but to return now and do the same thing deliberately and calculatedly was quite a different thing. Besides, she felt Charles was flaunting it in front of them, taking unnecessary risks and making an utter fool of Harrison.

“Well, we can’t go,” stated Arabella.

“Whyever not? We’ve nothing pressing on. It would be rude to decline. They are practically family to you at this stage, Arabella.”

chapter 13

Arabella tried to hide her concerns from her parents as they made the train journey down to Castlewest.

A carriage was waiting at the station to take them to Armstrong House where Margaret, Harrison and Emily were waiting for them when they arrived.

“What a lovely thought to invite us down for Emily’s birthday!” said Caroline.

“Arabella!” said Emily happily as she embraced her and kissed her cheek. Arabella realised Emily was as good an actor as Charles as she awkwardly accepted Emily’s over-the-top welcome.

Emily linked Arabella’s arm and led her into the drawing room.

“It so nice that they have become such good friends,” said Caroline as the rest of them followed.

Charles was standing at the front window in the drawing room, gazing out across the lake as he smoked a cigarette.

“Charles, Arabella and her parents have arrived,” said Emily.

Charles casually turned around and smiled. “Hello there!” he said, and came forward to greet them.

That evening the Armstrongs and Tattingers were served a sumptuous meal of roast suckling pig in the dining room. The families chatted away amicably and pleasantly like old friends, only Arabella, Charles and Emily knowing the reality of what was going on. Arabella found the whole experience excruciating, feeling like a fraud. There with their families, sitting next to Harrison and facing Charles across the table, their affair suddenly became real to her. And yet when she looked at Charles, when she could muster the strength to look at him, he seemed as relaxed as ever, with not a care in the world as he chatted away to everyone.

“Have you been to the theatre recently, Arabella?” asked Charles, looking at her directly.

Arabella tried to look back, but found she couldn’t look him in the eye as she began to blush.

“No, not recently,” she said.

“Yes, we were, we were there last Saturday. We went to see Hamlet, remember?” corrected Harrison.

“Oh, yes, we went to see Hamlet,” she agreed.

She glanced at Charles, who was sitting back, smirking at her.

Arabella was not staying in the Blue Room on this visit. She was put in a room that was right beside the house’s master bedroom, Margaret and Lawrence’s. Her parents were put in the bedroom on the other side of her.

Surely even Charles wouldn’t dare come down to her with such an arrangement? And yet he was so unpredictable, so loving of danger, she feared he would come to her during the night, regardless of who was on the other side of the walls.

But he didn’t.

“I was thinking we might go for a drive around the estate this afternoon,” suggested Emily to Arabella over breakfast.

“But I was going to take her into Castlewest today,” objected Harrison.

“Harrison! You have Arabella in Dublin all the time! She’s down for my birthday, so I want to spend some time with her,” scolded Emily.

Harrison turned to Arabella and smiled. “You know something? I thought I had you all to myself, but I think I have serious competition for you from my family!”

Arabella glanced at Charles and stood up quickly. “I’d better go and choose what to wear on the ride later.”

That afternoon Emily was waiting for Arabella in a small phaeton carriage in front of the house when she emerged.

Arabella stepped up into the phaeton and as soon as she had settled herself comfortably Emily slapped the reins on the horse’s back and they took off rapidly down the driveway.

“I must admire your skill in driving this phaeton,” said Arabella. “Even men find them quite tricky and dangerous.”

“I enjoy danger,” said Emily with a sideways glance. “Don’t you?”

Arabella looked away and didn’t answer. Did she like danger? Charles certainly did.

She lapsed into an awkward silence for a while before saying, “I know we write to each other all the time, but I feel I don’t really know you that well.”

“Oh, I feel as if I know you,” said Emily with a smile.

Arabella looked at her for any sign of sarcasm or innuendo, but there was none.

“It was a nice suggestion to go for a drive,” commented Arabella as she looked at the leaves coming out on the passing trees.

“Oh, we’re not going for a ride around the estate – I only said that to the others.”

“I see – where are we going?” Arabella asked, knowing now for sure that the whole expedition was a ploy arranged by Charles.

“To Hunter’s Farm,” said Emily as she turned the phaeton down the road.

“What’s to see at Hunter’s Farm?”

“It’s a small manor house on the estate. It’s only used as a guest house. Nobody goes there otherwise. You’ll be quite safe there.”

Arabella realised Charles was waiting for her at this Hunter’s Farm. She stared ahead again in awkward silence. Emily turned the carriage into a short driveway and drove up to a pretty dowager house surrounded by sycamores.

“I’ll come back to collect you this evening,” said Emily.

Arabella stepped down from the carriage then turned to look at Emily. “Whatever must you think of me?” she said.

Emily just smiled at her, turned the carriage and sped away.

Arabella walked up to the front door and opened it.

“Charles?” she called as she stepped in and closed the door behind her.

Charles came from the drawing room, quickly took her into his arms and started to kiss her.

Arabella pushed him away and walked into the drawing room.

“What do you think you’re playing at?” she demanded angrily as he followed her in. “Managing me into this terrible situation of coming down here for the weekend? Having to be in the same room as all our families, and Harrison and you!”

“I thought you’d be delighted. It’s given us an opportunity to spend some real time with each other instead of a few snatched hours here and there.”

“Have you no shame? How can you sit in your brother’s company as if nothing was wrong, when you are sleeping with me?”

“I don’t care! All I care about is being with you.”

“Well, I care! Poor Harrison –”

“Poor Harrison, my posterior! If you cared so much about Harrison, you wouldn’t be here now. You managed to get yourself out of a voyage to New York, I’m sure you could have got yourself out of a weekend at Armstrong House – if you really wanted to.”

Arabella said nothing for a long while before sighing. “And there lies the problem . . . I had to see you again. It’s like a drug. And I don’t care who I’m betraying in the process. I want to stop, but I can’t . . . But I don’t think I can go on for much longer with this. The pressure is too much. Having to smile and nod at your parents and family, and Harrison . . . And as for Emily! She’s a young impressionable girl whom we are ruthlessly using for our own ends!”

He came over to her and put his arms around her. “She’s loving it! She’s loving every moment of it. She’s having more excitement with us than she ever thought possible.”

“It doesn’t make it right,” said Arabella.

“All I know is what feels right,” he said, bending down to kiss her.

That night Emily sat playing the piano for everyone in the drawing room.

“She plays very well,” Caroline said to Margaret.

“Emily has been getting lessons.”

“She has come along in leaps and bounds since I met her last. You’re doing a wonderful job with her.”

“Well, I’ve been working very hard on her, Lady Tattinger.”

“Well, it shows.” Caroline’s eyes fell on Harrison and Arabella sitting side by side on a couch. He was trying to engage her in conversation, but she seemed to be gazing off into the distance. “Has Harrison said anything about setting a date for their wedding?”

“Well, I know he’s longing to get married, but they don’t seem to have progressed with any actual plans or arrangements.”

“Hmmm, that’s my understanding as well,” mused Caroline.

Margaret hesitated before speaking. “He’s confided in me that every time he broaches the subject with Arabella, she sidesteps it.”

“Really?” Caroline was surprised. “Well, there’s no point in them hanging around!”

“Yes . . . Perhaps Arabella is just a little nervous about assuming the responsibility of becoming a wife and running her own house?” suggested Margaret.

“With her dowry, they should be well set up and have no need to worry.”

“Perhaps we need to push them along a bit?” suggested Margaret.

On the Sunday afternoon Lawrence suggested that he and Harrison go for a walk. They went across the forecourt and down the flight of stone steps that led to the first terrace of gardens.

“Where has Arabella been all day?” asked Lawrence as they reached the end of the first terrace and walked down another flight of steps to the next.

“She set off with Emily first thing after breakfast and I haven’t seen them since,” said Harrison. “I’d hoped this weekend would be an opportunity for us to spend some relaxed time together. But Emily has taken her away for most of the time.”

“You can’t blame your sister if she is a little bedazzled by the glamorous Arabella,” said Lawrence.

“I couldn’t imagine Emily ever being bedazzled by anyone.”

They reached the bottom of the terraces and the lakeshore and began to walk along the pebbled shoreline that gave way to stretches of sand.

“Your mother tells me you haven’t settled on a date for the wedding yet?” said Lawrence, choosing his words carefully.

“No.” Harrison looked down to the ground in thought. “I’ve tried to numerous times over the past few months. But every time I try, Arabella just changes the subject quickly.”

“Have you tried to ask her why?”

“No. There was no point in me pushing her to . . . For the past while, she seems distracted. It’s as if I don’t have her attention when I’m with her. We were never like that before . . . we were so close. I’m worried.”

Lawrence slowed down. Harrison was always different from their other children. Ever since he was a child, he needed gentle encouragement. None of the others ever needed gentle anything as they all knew their own minds, often too much so.

“Harrison, I think you need to stop beating around the bush with Arabella. Set the date, the venue and get on with it. In my opinion she is seeing you as not being determined enough and is fearing you have the same doubts as you fear she is having!”

“Do you think so?” Harrison said.

“Yes, I do. It’s Gwyneth’s wedding next month and the Tattingers are invited. There’s nothing like attending a wedding to make a young woman think about her own. It’s your opportunity to tie the whole thing down.”