Part 20 (2/2)
”But he's not married yet,” Perry said, ”and you know him from your own carousing.”
”True.” Russell grinned. ”But would he want me to marry his sister, if he had one? Probably not.”
”You've seen them together,” Perry stated. ”She's different with him.”
”No, I don't agree. She's completely herself. Completely Clarissa.”
”Exactly,” Perry said. ”Why? She hardly knows him. Why would she be so bold with him, unless she's drawn to him, feels somethinga””
”Not all bad to feel something for the man she might marry.”
”Marry Montwyn? I don't think so. Steel against steel, the two of them. And I think he may be scaring off other suitors, leaving her with little choice but him.”
”He's scaring off the suitors she's not scaring off herself?” Russell laughed.
Perry shrugged and said reluctantly, ”Point taken. She is not showing her best to the London lads, as she calls them.”
”Yet Montwyna””
”Montwyn isn't put off by her manner at all,” Perry finished.
Perry and Russell looked into each other's eyes in full comprehensiona”and with no comfort.
The evening's entertainment was a ball and it was lovely. The music, the candlelight, the colors of gowns and jewels and bouquets, were all lovely. Memorable. A sweet winter's night for a maid to cherish when she was old and fragile and lounging on her chaise in some cold and distant future. Clarissa knew it would be so. She would remember this night, this beautiful night of dancing and music, for years.
It was so sad that upon such an evening she was compelled to shop for an English husband.
Dalton had disappeared almost upon their arrival, Perry was whispering with the niece of their host quite a distance from her side, Russell was caught in what appeared to be a serious game of cards, and Lindley was at her side, his vigilance as constant as his advice.
”If you would only restrain your temper and be civil, you would make much headway,” he said, not bothering to disguise his exasperation.
”I am always civil,” Clarissa said, her eyes glittering more sharply than her jewels. ”What I will not do is fawn over these English fops.”
” You are English, as English as any in thisa””
”What sort of children would I be forced to bear if married to that?” she said in a hiss, cutting him off. She used her fan to indicate Lord Darnell, as fat as always and in need of a hair tr.i.m.m.i.n.g. ”Has any one of you considered that?” Darnell was all jowl and bristlea”revolting. ”I could do little worse in the barnyard.”
”And does the ram bring in twenty thousand pounds per annum?”
”He is no ram, Lindley,” she said bluntly. ”Would you bind me to a porker for even half that amount?” she rejoined angrily.
”Shall we speak of the kitchen mouse to whom I have pledged?” Lindley said in a growl, his eyes as fierce and as bright as hers.
”Miss Brookdale is no mouse!” Clarissa protested.
”With Ridgehaven in tow, no woman is a mouse,” he said, calming himself. ”At least it shall not be admitted aloud.”
Clarissa felt guilt tugging at her heels and could not run fast enough to escape its touch. She was churlish. Everyone married for money and position; she was not the first, nor would she be the last. It was childish to be so contrary. Lindley had done his part for the family, and she could do no less.
”Is it the porker you have in mind for me?” she asked with a wry smile.
”Never.” He smiled back, their argument over and done. ”Do your own choosing. But choose.”
”Very well,” Clarissa said, taking a deep breath. ”I shall. Tonight.”
”There is no need for such haste. The clock does not tick so loudly as all that,” he argued. Lindley never could enjoy a period of calm for more than a moment.
”I am not of a disposition to dawdle,” she said, drawing herself up and surveying the room. ”What matters one man over another when they are all so confoundedly English? A length of bleached linen is a length of linen, is it not? What possible reason for confusion or hesitation? I shall make my decision tonight and will have the goods delivered next week.”
”Confound you, Clarissa! You know there is no such needa””
She laid a hand upon his arm and looked up into his eyes. ”I would rather have it behind me, Lindley. The matrimonial blade gleams quite wickedly over my neck. I would the sooner have it drop.”
Now it was guilt that dogged him; she could read it in his eyes. But she had spoken truly; she had no will to delay what she knew was her family duty. To delay meant to feed the illusion of choice, and she had no choice. She must marry and marry well.
Lord Montwyn, joining their company, ended the argument, which was just as well.
”Good evening, Beau,” Lindley said with a bow. ”A pleasure to see you, as always.”
”Good evening.” Montwyn bowed, his eyes lingering on Clarissa. She returned his look after her quick curtsy. ”I had hoped to see you tonight,” he said.
Of course he had. He was behaving very much like a man who had made up his mind as to the woman of his choice; she knew enough of men to know that. And she knew Lindley well enough to know that her blatant perusal of Montwyn was making him uncomfortable. That was a pitya”for Lindley. Henry Wakefield, Lord Montwyn, was not discomfitted at all, that she could see. She was quite certain that, having made the ill-guided decision that she was to be the future Earl of Montwyn's mother, Henry Wakefield expected her to be honored and flattered. He truly was an imbecile.
”You are called Beau, Lord Montwyn? I was told your given name was Henry,” she said.
”Beau, for Beauford, another of my names. A childhood name that has stuck with me,” he answered, holding her eyes. His eyes were the most intense shade of greena ”I should think that few men would be so mild as to keep a childhood name alive into adulthood,” she said, breaking contact with his eyes and looking down at her fan. What was behind his eyes ? Something that called to her heart and not her head; she would ignore it.
”Yes, I suppose I would feel so if my nurse had taken to calling me Puddles,” he said, grinning.
His face was transformed when he grinned. Oh, he was still formidable, but now he also seemed playful, boyish. He must have been a wild youth. She did not know but that he was a wild man. And, foolishly, the thought did not dismay her as it should have. He was bold, yet she could be bold as well.
”Did you make any other purchases at Lackington's today, Lady Clarissa?” Montwyn asked.
”Didn't you watch?” she said. Yes, she could be bold and would be. It delighted him, she knew, and delighting him, just for the moment, amused her.
”Please excuse my sistera”” Lindley began, his cheeks red with fury. She knew she had pushed him past mere embarra.s.sment.
”There's no need,” Beau interrupted. ”She's quite right. I did watch. One book. Noa””
”Husband,” Clarissa completed for him, smiling up at him. His eyes were like emeralds, deep and sparkling, almost blue in the candlelight.
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