Page 14 of A Reckless Courtship (A Chronicle of Misadventures #3)

14

ARABELLA

A rabella’s hand flew to her mouth, and sharp intakes of breath sounded all around.

Mr. Hayes sailed through the air and over the water. He grabbed hold of the barge’s railing, but his feet struggled to find purchase. One of them dipped into the water before settling firmly on the barge’s edge. Without a moment of hesitation, he climbed over the railing, hardly taking note of all the people watching him with wide eyes and mouths agape as his boot dripped water onto the deck.

He nodded politely at his audience, then strode through the crowds, brushing his coat as though he had just stepped down from a carriage rather than bounding across the Thames onto a moving barge.

A chorus of silence and continued stares awaited him once he reached Arabella and the others, the way his chest rose and fell the only evidence of his exertion.

“Good evening,” he said with a quick bow, then he took the glass from Mr. Yorke’s hand and drained it.

“You,” Mr. Yorke said, “are the most hare-brained and ridiculous…” He fumbled over his words, apparently past the point of being able to pinpoint precisely what Mr. Hayes was.

Mr. Hayes smiled at him and handed him the empty glass, then grasped Mr. Yorke’s shoulder with a hand. “Happy to see you too, Freddie.”

The silence broke with incredulous chuckles from the others, and Mr. Hayes caught Arabella’s eye just long enough to wink at her.

Her heart thumped with pleasure. Never had her mood shifted so drastically and so suddenly. She could not stop smiling. The beauty of the evening, already beyond her expectations, multiplied instantly with Mr. Hayes upon it.

The group soon migrated to the seats in the center of the vessel, and while Felicity sat beside one of the new gentlemen they had met, Arabella took a seat beside Aunt Louisa. She might have spared herself the trouble, for just moments after she sat down, Mrs. King took the seat on Aunt Louisa’s right and engaged her in conversation.

“May I?”

Arabella glanced up and found Mr. Hayes looking down at her. He nodded at the empty chair on her left to indicate his intention to sit beside her.

“If I refuse,” she said, “will you simply leap into the chair?”

His mouth spread into a grin. “You disapprove of my arrival, I take it. A bit too dramatic for your tastes?”

“Quite the contrary,” she said, unable to stop a betraying smile. “It would have been far more impressive if you had done it from astride a horse.”

He chuckled and took a seat beside her. “If only I had thought of it. Perhaps then I would not be walking around with wet socks.” He looked down at his boot, from which river water continued to drip.

“A small price to pay, I think, for the attention you claim to love. Mr. Yorke said you would not be here, and yet now everyone is aware of your attendance.”

“Provided you are aware of it, I am content.”

Arabella searched his eyes, trying to determine the intent behind the words. He had told her his teasing was an attempt at friendship, but at times, his words hinted at more.

“It is fortunate, then, that I came,” she said.

“Was that ever in question?”

“Papa wished me to join him at Barrington.”

His smile flickered. “And you did not desire to go with him?”

“Not particularly.” She hesitated. What would Mr. Hayes think to know she might become engaged soon? No doubt Felicity would encourage her to use such information to her advantage—to see if she could elicit some jealousy. But Arabella had no interest in arousing jealousy. She merely wished to understand what Mr. Hayes thought of her—or whether he did think of her when she was not present. “He wished to introduce me to a gentleman there.”

Mr. Hayes’s gaze held hers. “A gentleman...”

She nodded, watching him carefully, but she was too untrained to decipher his reaction.

“A suitor, you mean,” he said.

“I believe so.”

He nodded slowly. “What made you stay?” He watched her intently. Did he wish her to say she had stayed for him?

Had she?

Something within her responded with an unmistakable yes .

She ignored it. “I suppose I have not yet accustomed myself to the idea of…suitors or matrimony.”

“But your father has,” he offered.

“He wishes to see me provided for, as every father does.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze never breaking from hers. “And what are your father’s requirements for men who would presume to your hand?”

She smiled at the word presume . “Papa has high expectations. He always has. I can only imagine that will remain true in this case.”

“Meaning…”

“Meaning,” she said slowly, “that I believe he is set on someone in possession, as he is, of both title and fortune.”

Mr. Hayes laughed and broke his gaze away, sitting back in his seat and folding his arms.

The reaction perplexed her. “You are amused.”

“Oh, far from it.”

She was quiet, and he turned to look at her again.

“For your sake, I sympathize with your father’s stringent requirements, of course. But for my own sake, I regret them.”

Her heart raced as they regarded one another, until finally, he spoke again, his tone casual. “And what of your requirements?”

“My requirements,” she repeated, still trying to fathom the implication of what he had said. It was the first time he had said anything firm to give her to believe he had more serious intentions toward her.

“Surely there are things you wish for in a suitor, Miss Easton. Or perhaps you would be equally happy no matter whom you married. That man, for instance”—he indicated a tall, ruddy-faced man standing on the deck—“provided he has a title and a large fortune, of course.” The gentleman gripped a glass in each hand, one full of wine, the other of brandy. He tossed his head back and laughed loudly at something, then took a sip from the wine followed by a sip from the brandy.

Arabella could not help drawing back at the sight. “I think not.” The man reminded her of the drunkards from Vauxhall.

“Very well, then. What are your requirements?”

She let her gaze run over the variety of guests aboard the barge. It had never occurred to her to consider her own preferences, nor had she had the opportunity to develop them through association with eligible men.

Until recently.

“If it were entirely up to me,” she said slowly, “I would wish for someone…kind. Someone who enjoyed my company and whose company I enjoyed. Someone with whom I could laugh—and perhaps even cry.” She smiled slightly. “Papa says men cannot abide tears. I am not one to indulge in them often, but one of my only memories of Mama was when a storm blew down my favorite tree, and she held me while I cried. She took me out to see a new tree planted in its place just days later.” She swallowed down the emotion that speaking of her mother elicited.

Mr. Hayes watched her, his expression inscrutable as he listened.

What would he do if she cried? Would he panic and feel embarrassed to be seen with her? Would he find an excuse to leave as Papa so often did?

The answer came to her with a surety.

He would not. On the contrary, she could imagine he might gently wipe her tears and speak reassuring words. He was far too kind to do anything else.

In fact, Mr. Hayes encapsulated everything she had mentioned. Did he realize that?

Perhaps she had revealed too much. “I know little of courting and marriage, though,” she said. “I have only just begun to enjoy friendships.”

It was quiet for a moment as they regarded one another.

“The value of friendship should not be discounted,” he said with a smile. It had an almost sad quality to it.

“No, indeed.”

He looked at her for another moment, then turned his focus ahead. “I hope you know you may rely upon me to help you fend off any unwanted suitors. It is the least an untitled, fortuneless friend could do.” He shot her a quick smile.

“That is a kind offer, Mr. Hayes. And how do you propose to accomplish it?”

“Never fear. I shall find a way.”

She laughed softly.

“Do you doubt me?”

“It would be the height of foolishness to doubt the ingenuity and determination of a man prepared to leap over the Thames.”

“You would certainly be wrong to do so. When I set my mind to something, I find a way to accomplish it.” The way he held her eyes made her heart race, though she could not say why. He had not said anything to elicit such a reaction.

But that was just it. Her heart behaved in strange ways when she was with Mr. Hayes.

He looked toward the other side of the barge for a few moments. “Would you care to join me in watching the river?”

She hesitated a moment, but there was no denying she did desire to join him there, so she nodded. If Papa had a mind to arrange her marriage, who knew how much longer she would be able to enjoy the company of Mr. Hayes?

She assured Aunt Louisa she would be within eyesight, then took his arm, and he guided them to the side of the barge.

A lamp hung above their heads, reflecting on the water flowing past. They had strayed from the lights of Westminster in their journey toward Greenwich, and the number of windows lit by candlelight or lamplight on either side of the shore had diminished, giving the impression that they were gliding along through the inky night.

“Is your father angry with me, Miss Easton?”

Arabella glanced at him. “Because you were not there to be introduced to him?”

He nodded.

She rested her hands on the railing. “He found your absence…off-putting.” She grimaced. “I fear there is little chance of his agreeing to let you invest with him.”

Mr. Hayes nodded, a rueful smile on his face. “I surmised as much. I am sorry to have made a poor impression.”

She was sorry for it too. More sorry than she could say. She wanted Papa to like Mr. Hayes, but that ship had sailed.

Mr. Hayes leaned forward, resting his elbows on the railing, and she regarded him as he stared out at the view silently.

He was a handsome man, and yet his appearance did not fully account for the way her heart reacted to him. It could not explain why her eyes sought him wherever she went, or why her mind drifted toward him at every opportunity.

She had met other handsome men since arriving in London, but none of them made her feel what she felt in Mr. Hayes’s presence. If Papa had taken any of them in dislike, it would not have bothered her the way it did to know he was forever prejudiced against Mr. Hayes.

She had referred to what she felt for him as friendship, but as she watched him fiddle with the sleeve of his coat, she knew in her heart that friendship did not fully convey what she felt.

Even her lack of experience in Society could not persuade her to believe it was mere friendship which made her wonder what it might feel like to run her hands through his hair, to have his arms around her waist, or to have his lips pressed to hers.

Mr. Hayes might be her friend, but what she felt for him went far beyond that.

She was falling in love with him.

And when her eyes caught on the bracelet his fingers fidgeted with and the thoughtful expression he wore as he stared out at the water, she had to wonder if he felt a glimmer of the same thing for her.