Free A Perfect Groom by Samantha James Page A

herself.
    But sitting in her bath a scant half-hour later, she resolved differently. If she should chance to see Justin, she wouldn’t let him set her to quailing. Nor would she let him best her. She had more starch than to let him win.
    And she wasn’t about to let him turn her into a recluse. That would have given him too much satisfaction.
    And indeed, once they arrived at Vauxhall, Arabella wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Their arrival to the Grand Walk was perfectly timed. They had no sooner settled in than a crescendo from the orchestra sounded. The night exploded; hidden in the trees were lanterns of radiant color, in the shape of stars and half-moons. Arabella exclaimed in sheer delight, for it was a world like no other.
    Despite her earlier resolve, she had been on edge as they awaited entry into the gardens. But from that moment on, the mood for the night was set. And there was no sign of Justin, which sealed her enchantment of the evening.
    Most everyone in attendance wore masks and had chosen their costumes with care. It was vastly entertaining trying to guess who everyone was. There was a svelte young beauty draped in the garb of a Greek goddess, a couple who came as Romeo and Juliet. For her own costume, Arabella had chosen to wear a gown of gauzy layered silk in the Spanish style. A fine black lace mantilla shielded her curls.
    Finishing a country dance, she laughed as a dashing pirate blew her a kiss from across the dance floor, set up near the central square. She knew it wasn’t Justin — he lacked Justin’s tall, lean physique. Her heart pounding from her exertions, she wandered into a miniature temple a short distance away from the guests.
    Inside, a small bench beckoned invitingly. It was, she decided, the perfect place to rest and regain her breath. Tipping her head back, she listened to the sound of a waterfall tinkling nearby.
    She was just about to rise when the trill of feminine voices reached her ears.
    “You know he won’t be long without a mistress,” said one.
    “He never is,” agreed another. “But who will be the next lucky lady, I wonder?”
    Arabella froze. They had stopped almost directly behind her.
    “He does have a tendency to go through lovers. Why, I vow, it would not be beyond reason to say that he’s bedded down with fully half the women here tonight, now, would it?”
    More trilling laughter. Arabella’s lips turned down, but she didn’t dare move. She didn’t want them to think she was spying on them.
    “Ah, yes, and left a trail of broken hearts in the wake.”
    “And yours among them,” said the first woman. “Ah, yes, well, hearts do mend, don’t they? But perhaps you should cast your hat back into the ring.”
    “Oh, I would not be averse to it were he to look my way,” the second woman said lightly. “But Agatha has her eye on him again, you know. They were lovers a few years ago, if you recall, just after she married Dunsbrook. But how many has she seen since? A dozen?”
    “Ah, but what of him? Surely thrice that many!”
    Arabella’s entire body burned. How blithely they spoke of dalliances and indiscretions, of affairs and infidelity. How frivolously they spoke of love and lovers — dear God, they made but a mockery of the words!
    Theirs was a world she would neither embrace nor understand, a world she deplored with all her being. And the gentleman in question — oh, but she used the term most generously! — why, he was the worst of all!
    Love was faith and fidelity and all that went with it. Love was what her parents shared. And, particularly after her conversation with Aunt Grace, she was very, very certain that love was what Aunt Grace and Uncle Joseph shared.
    “Yes, I remember the way Agatha carried on. Why, to this day I recall the jealous fit she threw when she discovered he was carrying on with Lady Anne — what a tizzy! You’d have sworn he was her first and only love. I won’t deny Justin Sterling is a lover of superb