Page 4 of A Scandal for the Beastly Earl

"Are you?" Lady Honoria turned to face her daughter, and Arabella was surprised to see tears in her mother's eyes. "Are you truly aware of what you've just done? Lord Nottington was preparing to offer for you. I had it on excellent authority from his mother. A respectable match, a good family, a secure future. And now..."

"And now," Arabella said gently, "Lord Nottington will offer for someone who doesn't throw herself into lakes to save drowning dogs."

"Thistle wasn't even drowning!" her mother exclaimed, gesturing wildly at the dog who was now attempting to make friends with their coachman. "Dogs can swim!"

"He was struggling," Arabella protested, though she had to admit that Thistle's current state of muddy enthusiasm suggested he had recovered remarkably well from his near-death experience.

"He was struggling," her mother repeated flatly. "And so you decided to struggle with him. In front of everyone. With Lord Blackthorn."

The way she said the Earl's name, with a combination of awe, horror, and something that might have been speculation, made Arabella's stomach perform an interesting maneuver that had nothing to do with lake water.

"He rescued me," she said carefully.

"He touched you," her mother corrected. "In public. While you were both soaking wet and everyone was watching." She paused, seeming to wrestle with something. "The ton will have a field day with this. The Beast of Blackthorn and the Lady in the Lake. They'll dine out on this story for years."

"The Beast of...Mama, you can't call him that!"

"I can call him whatever I wish in the privacy of our own carriage," Lady Honoria said, but there was something in her expression that Arabella couldn't quite read. "Though I suppose... no, it's impossible."

"What's impossible?"

Her mother looked at her for a long moment, and Arabella had the unsettling feeling of being assessed like a horse at market. "Nothing. Get in the carriage. We need to get you home before you catch your death of

cold. Though frankly, that might be preferable to what we're going to face tomorrow."

As Arabella climbed into the carriage, her wet skirts making the process both difficult and undignified, she caught sight of Penelope approaching with her spencer and reticule.

"Well," her friend said, handing over the items with an expression of barely suppressed mirth, "you've certainly ensured that no one will be talking about Lady Nottington's turquoise ribbons anymore."

"Small mercies," Arabella muttered, accepting her belongings.

"Oh, I don't know," Penelope continued, her eyes gleaming. "I thought the whole thing was rather romantic. The brooding Earl, the drowning damsel, the dramatic rescue..."

"The dog," Arabella added dryly. "Don't forget the dog."

"How could anyone forget the dog?" Penelope gestured to where Thistle was now being forcibly loaded into the carriage by two footmen who looked as though they were reconsidering their career choices. "He's the hero, really. Without him, you'd never have ended up in Lord Blackthorn's arms."

"I was not in his arms," Arabella protested, though the heat rising to her cheeks suggested otherwise.

"No? My mistake. It must have been some other lady wrapped in his embrace whilst emerging from the lake like something from a Byron poem."

"Byron would have made it much more elegant," Arabella said, attempting to wring water from her hem with limited success. "Less dog, more dignity."

"Dignity is overrated," Penelope declared. "Besides, I noticed Lord Blackthorn didn't seem particularly concerned about his dignity when he dived in after you."

This was true, Arabella reflected as the carriage began to move. The Earl of Blackthorn, who was famous for avoiding society, who hadn't been seen at a public gathering in over a year, who was rumored to refuse all invitations and speak to no one outside his immediate circle, had thrown himself into a lake to rescue her without a moment's hesitation.

"He was probably just afraid of the scandal if I drowned," she said, though even she didn't believe it.

"Yes," Penelope said dryly, "because being seen hauling a waterlogged debutante out of a lake whilst everyone watches is exactly the sort of thing one does to avoid scandal."

The carriage hit a rut, jostling them and causing Thistle to bark with enthusiasm. He seemed to view the entire afternoon as a big adventure created specifically for his entertainment.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Lady Honoria said suddenly, having been ominously silent for several minutes.

"That I need a new gown?" Arabella suggested hopefully.

"That you need a husband," her mother corrected. "Immediately. Before the gossip becomes completely unmanageable."