Free Lady Arabella's Scandalous Marriage by Carole Mortimer Page B

confusion as she turned back to him.
    Darius forced his anger over the accident to the back of his emotions, to be dealt with at a later date rather than expressing it here and now in front of Arabella. ‘I was merely questioning the care that was taken in preparing the carriage for our use today,’ he explained.
    Her breath drew in sharply. ‘I am sure that none of your grooms would have been negligent, Darius. After all, they were travelling on the coach too.’
    ‘Of course.’ Darius forced a tight smile. ‘It was just an accident, as you say. One that unfortunately seems to have left us a little distance from arriving outside Carlyne House,’ he added ruefully, realising they still had a quarter of a mile or so to travel before they reached his—their—London home.
    ‘I doubt that a walk will do either of us any lasting harm.’ Arabella tucked her hand into the crook of his arm with the obvious intention of beginning that walk immediately.
    The dignity of her expression prevented Darius from pointing out how much in disarray was her appearance, with her hair loose and falling wildly downthe length of her spine, and her gown less than pristine. It had several dirty smudges down its front and a slight tear in the material along one side. In that moment, dishevelled and still slightly unnerved by the accident, Arabella still managed to look every inch a duchess.
    His duchess.
    ‘At least you now have a valid reason for the dishevelled state of your hair,’ he teased lightly as they began to walk along the street with every appearance of simply being out for an afternoon stroll.
    Arabella had visited Carlyne House several times this past week, to be introduced to all of the household staff, as well as become acquainted with one of the houses that would become her home once she and Darius were married.
    Having decided that the spring, when hopefully the weather would be more clement, was a much nicer time to honeymoon on the Continent, Arabella and Darius had instead made arrangements to travel to Winton Hall on the day following the wedding. They would spend several weeks there before travelling into Gloucestershire in December, to spend the Christmas season with Arabella’s family.
    Arabella’s cheeks warmed slightly as she recalled the reason her hair was tumbled loosely about her shoulders and down her spine. That soft thrumming resumed in her body as she recalled the ardour of Darius’s kisses. Her heart started pounding as she wondered how much further he would have gone in his lovemaking if the accident had not brought such an abrupt end to their intimacy.
    Then the warmth in her cheeks became due to embarrassment as Arabella recalled, and deeply regretted, her behaviour following the accident. That she had the excuse of her parents’ death in a carriage accident to explain her hysteria did not make it any less undignified.
    She drew in a sharp breath. ‘I can only apologise for behaving like a—a ninny just now, Darius. It was inexcusable of me to take on so. I should not have screamed or clung to you in the way I did.’
    ‘I assure you I found your behaviour highly diverting,’ he said.
    ‘Diverting?’ she echoed sharply.
    ‘Why, yes.’ The humour that curved Darius’s mouth was also reflected in his eyes. ‘It is not every day that one sees the Lady Arabella St Claire appearing less than composed.’
    ‘You forget, Darius, that I am now Arabella Wynter, Duchess of Carlyne!’ she reminded him tartly, stung by his amusement at her expense.
    He snorted. ‘That is even more reason to marvel at your recent loss of control.’
    ‘I am pleased to have provided you with some amusement!’ she huffed.
    ‘Are you?’
    ‘No!’ Arabella glared up at him in the moonlight.
    ‘Perhaps that is as well—as I am actually far from amused.’ His expression turned suddenly grim once more, his eyes taking on the cold sheen of ice.
    A frown creased the creaminess of her brow as she looked up at him