Papa helped Mama up, and then he and Arthur climbed in. The carriage lurched into motion. She hardly heard them excoriating Jeffrey as they bumped along the cobblestones. Instead, she was planning ahead. When she married David, she hoped he wouldn’t mind moving to the countryside. She couldn’t possibly stay in London after this. But in winning David’s loyalty, had she lost any chance at his heart? How could he ever trust her with Jeffrey’s lie between them? Perhaps she should quietly retire to the countryside on her own, after all. It hardly seemed fair to burden David with her damaged reputation.
“Don’t lose heart, my dear.” Papa patted her hands, startling her from her thoughts. “That rat will never come within a mile of you again.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Thank you, Papa.”
It was difficult to look on the bright side after such a humiliating morning, but she had to thank her lucky stars thatshe had such a loyal and caring family. And her brave defender had stood by her in her darkest hour. Even with that vicious rumor hanging over her head, she had so much for which to be grateful. Mrs. Dove-Lyon had chosen wisely indeed.
If Clarissa could only chip away at the shell concealing David’s heart, she could find happiness, despite her ruined reputation. As long as the people she cared for believed her, she could weather any storm.
Chapter 7
Doubt gnawed at David’s mind as he rearranged the hideous brocade cushions in his drawing room, as if doing so would somehow make the space less sad and garish. He didn’t often have company, and when he did, he couldn’t have cared less what they thought of his décor. But Clarissa was different. This would be her home, at least for a time. How would she see it?
It shouldn’t have mattered. Whether true or not, Effingham’s accusation made her plight all the more dire. She couldn’t afford to walk away from their arrangement, no matter how depressing and poorly appointed his home might have been. And he couldn’t afford to walk away from her either, even if she was with child. Nor did he want to, which worried him a great deal.
The problem was that he believed her, despite having no proof beyond her word that the rumor of her pregnancy was false. He was an idiot like that. He trusted where he shouldn’t have. There was something defective about his foolish stony heart. He’d trusted Laura despite a thousand warning signs. What possible reason could he have to believe Clarissa?
“How was church?” Charles’ voice startled David so badly that he knocked over a side table. “Did they read the banns? When are you going to tell me who you’re marrying?”
“You could have attended church yourself to find out,” David responded, earning a scoff from his brother. Charles, maybe more than anyone, needed church. David checked himself; who was he to judge his brother? But, then again, if it wasn’t for Charles and his irascible behavior, he wouldn’t be in this mess. That, in part, was the reason he hadn’t shared the identity of his bride.
Now that she was coming to the house, though, he could hardly hide it any longer. “It’s Lady Clarissa, the Duke of Wellington’s daughter.”
Charles frowned. “What? Effingham’s chit? Good God.”
The urge to throttle his little brother was becoming all too familiar. “She’s not ‘Effingham’s chit,’ and if you call her that again, I will throw you out of the house without a penny to your name.”
David righted the side table with a loud thud and leaned on it, glaring at his brother.
Charles raised his hands and stepped back. “Apologies. ‘Lady Clarissa’ it is, then. No need to be so tetchy! I’m just surprised is all. And perhaps a bit worried. Jeffrey swears they are still engaged and even mentioned that she’s…er…increasing. After Laura, I would have thought—”
“Do. Not. Mention. Laura.” Was there anyone under the firmament as obnoxious as Charles? Aside from that bastard, Effingham, of course… And that godforsaken footman who had absconded with his unfaithful wife. “And I’ll thank you to remember that I’m doing this to save your precious neck.”
“For which you have my everlasting thanks, but isn’t there some other damsel in distress you could rescue from ruin? Effingham isn’t going to take this well. He has some very nasty debt collectors after him, and this match was supposed to be his salvation. And believe me when I tell you he does not react charitably when someone takes something he seesas his. I accidentally drank his cognac at White’s once, and he deliberately spilled red wine down my front in revenge. He doesn’t even drink red wine! He ordered it specifically so that he could ruin my best waistcoat. And that was just over a bit of tipple. I hate to think what he might do over a stolen fiancée.”
That Effingham was a selfish, vengeful lout was not surprising in the least. “I’m not worried about what he’ll do to me. I’m more than a match for him on his best day. It’s what he’ll do toherthat makes me uneasy.”
The doorbell rang in the distance. She was here. His heart did a funny thumpity-thump as he switched the pillows one last time. “That must be the duke and Lady Clarissa now. I expect you to be on your best behavior, Charles. I mean it.”
“When am I ever not on my best behavior?” The vexing rogue had the temerity to smirk.
Meanwhile, Billings arrived in the doorway with his customary professional frown fixed in place. “The Duke of Wellington and his daughter, Lady Clarissa, are at the door to see you, my lord. Shall I show them in?”
David stood tall and straightened his waistcoat and jacket. At leasthewas presentable, even if his house wasn’t. “Yes, please, and have Mrs. Pippin fetch tea.”
“Very good, sir.” Billings turned and walked away, each footstep tightening the tension in David’s chest.
“Nervous about seeing your blushing bride?” Charles’ smirk deepened as they awaited the arrival of their guests.
“Shut up, you horse’s ass!” David had had enough of Charles’ needling for one day.
“I hope you don’t plan to kiss Lady Clarissa with that foul mouth of yours.”
“Oh, you’re one to talk, you toad-brained, ill-bred, vulgar—”
Billings entered, clearing his throat, and David snapped his mouth shut.Bollocks.The duke and Clarissa were right behind him; had they overheard him berating his brother? He searched the duke’s features as the man entered the room and was relieved to see no sign of it.
As he turned to Lady Clarissa, his breath caught. How was it possible for her to grow more captivating each time he saw her? With the way the sun caught her ravishing red hair and tenuous smile, he could swear she descended from the heavens, a radiant angel sent to shatter the calcified shell surrounding his scarred and calcified heart.
