Page 99 of A Scandal for the Beastly Earl

"She is," the Duchess confirmed, having watched the exchange with interest. "Lady Blackthorn has the most refreshing way of making observations. Just last week, she observed that Lady Potts’ vase collection looked like a porcelain army preparing for war."

"It does," Arabella insisted. "They're all facing the door. It's strategic positioning."

Despite himself, Lucien felt his lips twitch. His wife's ability to defuse tension with absurdity was one of her many talents.

"Shall we ride?" the Duchess suggested, clearly eager to prevent bloodshed before breakfast.

The party moved toward the stables, where grooms had prepared their mounts. Lucien helped Arabella onto a gentle mare, noting her slight pallor.

"You don't have to do this," he murmured.

"Yes, I do. Cassandra is watching."

"Let her watch."

"She's looking for weakness."

"Then give her none."

"Exactly my plan."

The ride began pleasantly enough, winding through the Duchess's extensive grounds. Autumn had painted the trees in spectacular colors, and the morning air was crisp but not cold. Arabella seemed to recover once mounted, her natural seat making her look completely at ease.

"You ride beautifully," Harrington observed, maneuvering his horse beside hers.

"Thank you."

"I wouldn't have expected it from someone of your... background."

The insult was barely veiled. Lucien started to turn his horse, but Arabella caught his eye, shaking her head slightly.

"My background?" she asked pleasantly.

"Well, reduced circumstances don't usually allow for extensive riding lessons."

"No, they don't. But they do teach resourcefulness. I learned on cart horses and whatever ancient mounts the neighbours would let me borrow."

"How... enterprising."

"Isn't it? Much like how some men of reduced morals learn to attach themselves to wealthy women."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, I wasn't talking about you, Mr. Harrington. Unless... is that how you met Lady Velott?"

Cassandra, riding just ahead, turned sharply. "Actually, we met at a funeral."

"How appropriate," Lucien observed.

"It was Matilda's funeral, actually," Cassandra said, watching him carefully.

The entire riding party seemed to hold its breath.

"How ghoulish of you," Arabella said calmly. "Collecting men at funerals."

"I was paying my respects."

"To a woman you barely knew?"