Her Forbidden Rogue

Arabella Worsley settled herself in the carriage with her maid, Betsy. After an afternoon of shopping, they were preparing for the journey home to their townhouse located on Berkley Square. Her step-mama had asked for her help in making preparations for her sister’s coming out ball. 

Something was amiss as her maid was unusually quiet. But Arabella decided to make use of the silence. Once the footman closed the door, she took out the new novel written by A Lady, which she had obtained from the circulating library in the Strand. The carriage lurched forward as it pulled out of the lane onto the road.

As the driver drove recklessly, the coach swayed and bounced too much for Arabella to concentrate on the novel. After reading the same line twice, she closed the book. A crack like a snapped tree branch resounded through the carriage. The vehicle pitched to one side slamming Arabella to her knees. Pain shot up her thighs, through her body, and into her skull. Betsyfell across the seat, smacking her head against the carriage door. 

Arabella gasped and grappled for the handhold, but her fingers encountered silky velvet instead and she, too, fell against the wall of the carriage.

Outside, the horses whinnied. The footmen and the driver shouted, answered by a voice she could not recognize.

“Some of those barrels fell off that dray. Broke the carriage wheel clear off,” the driver stated to the footman.

“That explains the snapping sound we heard,” Arabella mumbled. 

There was moaning coming from her left. 

“Are you all right?” Arabella asked her maid, a plump creature with a round country face.

“No, m’lady, my head feels as if someone is dancing a jig. I’m not sure if I can stand, let alone walk.” Her white cap was slightly askew. 

Betsy was thirty, with a curvaceous figure hidden under her apron and heavy black skirt. Although she was in pain, her features were attractive, with high cheekbones and a curved mouth, when it was not pulled into a grim line. Her eyes were dark and deep-set. But she was a handsome woman. She wore no ring.

“At least you’re conscious. I fear we might have fallen into a pothole when the wheel fell off. As no one seems to be coming to our rescue, I will see to our safety.” 

Arabella took a breath, pushed back her shoulders and reached for the hand straps dangling from the roof. Her fingertips grazed the leather. She muttered a curse and tried again. And again. Arms aching, mouth fixed into a line, she jumped for a fourth try and caught the dry leather. She grunted as a dull throb pulsed though her shoulders. Panting hard, she hauled one leg up. Needles danced through her leg and she bit her lower lip. Stomping her foot against the wall, she smashed the heel of her half boot through the window. She let out a cry and bit back even more curses that she should not know or utter. 

Oh, bother! Tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked them back. Her lower lip trembled, and so did her arms, but she lifted her chin. I will do this—I will save us.

“M’lady, what is that smell,” asked Betsy, covering her nose with her hand.

“Lovely, the barrel that fell against the carriage which must have contained ale. It spilled all over the road.” Arabella replied letting go of the strap. She held her perfumed handkerchief close to her nose, as she tried not to breathe.

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind having a glass myself. A tankard of ale would help me to forget what ails me.”

Hiding a smile, she stared sternly at Betsy. “I thought your head was already doing a jig without you partaking of any ale?”

“That’s one jig, with the help of some ale, m’lady; I could dance all on me own.”

Arabella smiled. “Perhaps you are right.”

The shouting outside ceased. The carriage door was yanked open hard enough to send it crashing against the side of the vehicle.

“No one told me there were passengers inside. Female I presume.”

The voice sent Arabella’s heart dropping straight through to the bottom of her stomach. 

Head reeling. Please let it be anyone but him. She brushed the curls out of her eyes and stared into the face of the man she had hoped never to see. Must he always be her knight in shining armor coming to her rescue? Hopefully, he would not recognize her.

However, the flash of surprise in his eyes told her otherwise. What a sight she must be with her wild ringlets falling about her neck and shoulders. 

She allowed her gaze to roam to the tight buckskin of his breeches that did little to disguise his long muscular legs. She did not remember him being this tall. Arched dark brows framed midnight blue eyes. His gaze touched her then flicked quickly past her.

​​​​​***

When Arabella’s heart-shaped face drained of all color, he shook his head. Good she remembers me. She will soon see the boy of her youth has grown into a man. A man whom she can no longer wrap around her dainty finger. He would much rather have those long legs of hers wrapped around him. An insistent stirring of arousal pulsed below his waistband. It had been a long time since he had been in the company of a lady.

Roderick was never more thankful to be wearing his greatcoat as it hid the evidence of his arousal. It could have caused an embarrassing scene should she have noticed. It had been years since he had experienced such instant lust. Clearly, he had been too long without a woman.

“Lady Arabella? Yes, it is you.” A smile tugged at his lips. To think he was furious when he was almost run off the path that he had momentarily overlooked the fact that there might be passengers within the coach requiring assistance. Who would have ever thought it would be her?

Yet as Roderick gazed upon Arabella, something pricked at his heart. Was it because he came to the rescue of a damsel in distress or because the damsel turned out to be no other than Lady Arabella Worsley? He wiped the dust from his dark-kid gloves, “What is that caterwauling? You do not seem to be hurt.”

Her pert mouth clamped shut as if trying to contain a tart rebuke. She waved a hand his way.

Pushing aside his manservant, Roderick lifted Arabella from the carriage. Her slim waist fit rather nicely within his grasp. When their bodies rested briefly against each other, he savored the slight sliver of her body against his before he set her on her feet. Her eyes went wide. Good. She wasn’t as indifferent as she would like for him to think.

Arabella had grown out of her lankiness, and she was graceful, her waist was small, and she curved in womanly places she had not possessed at sixteen. 

She straightened her fallen bonnet. He longed to bury his fingers in that mass of heavy dark curls. 

Arabella pointed to the carriage. “Please, my lord. You must see my maid safe from the coach!” 

Her delicate hand distracted Roderick. How soft would it feel against his naked chest?

With a nod to Bedford, his manservant, he set her request in motion.

She gasped at the miserable sight of her bloody maid lying prostrate on the leather seat. “Oh what a tangle. She seemed to be fine when I was with her.” Arabella’s voice croaked with dryness.

Roderick grasped her shoulders to steady her. “What we need is to have my man move this tangle, as you put it, aside.”

Jerking away, she leaned inside and mopped the maid’s brow with a crumpled handkerchief she tugged from her pocket.“So you may leave, is that your thought? Abandon this disaster you have been a part of making?”

“Belle, she will be fine. I prom--“

She turned to face him. “Do not speak to me of promises, Lord Roderick. I know how easily promises can be broken. I ask that you do not call me Belle. My name is Arabella. I do not ask anything else of you. So please feel free to leave at any time if you no longer wish to be of assistance to me.”

Roderick felt the rhythmic humming of his blood. Perhaps unknown to her she had sent a challenge his way. There was nothing a male loved more than a challenge, especially if there appeared to be an impossible obstacle to overcome – a woman. 

However, for now he would change the subject not letting her know he would very much like to get reacquainted with her. “Oh, don’t enact such a scene. Your driver trimmed his wheels too close to mine trying to avoid the barrels. Perhaps the opulence of my carriage blinded him.”  

“We were in a rush to get home. We have spent most of the morning employing the services of a fashionable modiste. My sister will be having her coming out ball in less than two weeks’ time at the assembly rooms. For a week, my dear sister, resisted her mama’s efforts to order a ball gown for her. Finally, she decided on a gown. For the last two hours, we sat and waited while the dressmaker fussed over her.” Arabella stopped. Why was she blabbering like a goose cap?

“Your sister is not with you?”

Arabella shook her head, her curls bouncing against her cheeks. “She went ahead with my step-mama. A satisfactory travel arrangement for all concerned.”

So Lady Macbeth still lives, he thought.

“Now we stand in full view of every passerby on Bond Street, my lord. You must wish to offer malicious gossipers false rumors to pass along.” Her silver green eyes flashing a faint flush across her cheeks.

“Oh, I indeed wish. How I do wish.”

What was it about her that made him want to throttle her? On second thought, he would much rather trace the high arch of her neck before burying his head in the curve of her neck placing his lips there. He never had such thoughts about a woman as quickly as he did with Arabella. He always knew she would turn into a beauty, and he was glad to see he was proved right.

She swiveled and headed to his carriage.

Before he could cut in front of her or even open the vehicle door for her, she thrusted open the door.

“Lady Arabella, I am glad you are allowing me my duty to safely escort you home, since I am a party to this accident, too.Fate seems to have brought us together once again. Is it a blessing or a curse?”

She folded her arms lifted her chin. “Your wit, captain, so sorry, my lord, I see is still with you.”

“Yes, as is my sense of duty.”

“Duty? Yes, you were always about duty, but I thought that was only in service to your King and country.”

He raised a brow. Ah so she hadn’t forgotten their youthful promise to each other which later had turned into a greater misunderstanding between them causing them to separate in anger.

“Bedford, will help bring your things to my carriage. You and your maid will ride with me.” He extended his arm.

Then much to his delight, she pressed her body closer to his. The fullness of her breast brushed against his arm. Arabella hesitated a moment before placing her fingers on his sleeve. Her hold was light as if she was afraid to be near him. “I will not impose upon you any more than is necessary. While in the carriage, I will try not to be seen.” 

Bloody hell, why couldn’t they be alone instead of in the middle of a busy London street? He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss those tempting red lips until she was senseless. Living at sea all these years must have made him forget how it felt to be this close to a woman. No not just any woman but her.  

He laughed. “I see you have not changed since last I saw you. Still as willful as ever. Can you not accept that the years away serving our country and King have changed me?”

“Please forgive me for you served our King well. A true hero. Our hero.” 

“Was I your hero?”

After many inquiries to his family, Arabella had learned he had been grievously injured on his ship during battle and wouldn’t be able to return to England for months. She had been worried sick. She had even written to him of her concern for his speedy recovery. She wrote him on a regular basis while he was serving in the navy. She anxiously awaited the post each day in the hopes there would be at least one letter from him. She waited in vain for he never wrote her back not even once.  

She brushed the creases in her skirt. The scent of jasmine with a touch of vanilla drifted up to him with each strike.

“But of course, although I seem to remember a few choice lectures from you about my behavior before you parted for the navy.”

“Foolish words they were from a youth who should have known better.” He laid his palm atop hers. “I beg you to forget them and let us start afresh.”