She swept out of the room in a cloud of schemes. The nausea Clarissa had felt upon her mother’s entry into the library multiplied now, making her dizzy and hot with the sinking sickness that she had no control over her own life. That her parents would arrange it so she never could.
She rushed from the room and turned toward the backstairs so she could flee to her chamber to calm herself, but because she wasn’t looking she crashed headlong into a person she hadn’t seen coming the other way up the hallway.
Large, strong hands caught her, dragging her a little closer and she looked up to find herself practically in the arms of the very man her mother had just been scheming to land as Clarissa’s husband: the Earl of Kirkwood.
After a night of surprisingly tormenting dreams about the very woman who Roderick now steadied in his arms, he felt discombobulated by the fact that she had careened into him at far too early an hour for most ladies of her rank. He was going to defuse the moment with a joke, but then she gazed up at him and her expression stopped him in his tracks.
She looked like an animal who had just realized they’d been caged. Her eyes were dark and shiny with unshed tears, her pupils dilated, her hands shaking and her cheeks pale.
“Clarissa,” he whispered, reverting to her given name without thought.
She yanked away from him. “Don’t!” she burst out, and staggered back into the room she had fled from less than a moment before.
He followed her and found it was the library. “What is it?”
“None of your business,” she snapped without looking at him.
He tensed. It seemed they were enemies again. He wondered why that stung so much. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t predicted that after last night and her avoidance of him after their kiss. Hardly a kiss at that. Nothing more than a brush of lips. And yet her obvious pain made him feel increasingly guilty about it.
“I’m sorry about my behavior in the parlor,” he began.
“What?” She pivoted toward him and stared.
“Kiss the Monkey. I don’t know you well enough to tease you so. I was as rude as you’ve accused me to be since my arrival and?—”
She waved her hand. “That doesn’t matter.”
“You aren’t upset about the kiss?” he asked.
“No.Ifoolishly kissedyou.”
She flushed a little, then bent her head and her breathing came shallow. He stepped closer. “If that isn’t what’s troubling you, then what is? Your upset is plain and I wish to help if I can.”
“You cannot help me,” she gasped as she pushed past him toward the door. “In fact, I would advise you to stay far away from me, my lord. And I’ll do the same with you.”
Then she was gone. He moved to the door, but she was already halfway up the hallway, not looking back, not slowing as she made her escape. He stepped back into the library and shook his head. He had no idea what had caused her to react this way. He ought not to have cared. He’d offered assistance, as was gentlemanly, and she had refused. Now he should take her advice, back his way out of all this and simply let the time that remained in the gathering tick by. Afterwardhe’d just forget her, go back to his life and, he hoped, eventually meet the woman who would be the lightning bolt to his heart.
And yet he stared at the door to the chamber where she had left, his mind uneasy and stomach turning. For some unfathomable reason, he liked Miss Clarissa Lockhart. And the idea that she was so miserable didn’t sit right with him. Whether it was his place to feel that way or not.
“Imust make a plan,” Clarissa said as she paced her chamber later in the day.
She was already dressed for supper and the entertainments afterward. Her mother had insisted she would play her harp for the gathering first. Oh, how she hated the harp. She’d been forced to play it for years, having instructors stand over her, rapping her knuckles if she plucked a string wrong. There was no pleasure in it for her.
But there was also no denying her parents. So she would do it, exhibit like a circus animal who did tricks. All to catch a man.
All to catchKirkwood, if her parents had their way. She increased her pacing as the panic she had been fighting all day rose again in her chest. Matched with Kirkwood, a man who was her polar opposite, a rake and a rogue who cared little for propriety. What kind of marriage would that make? They could only discussOthellofor so long and then?
“Imustmake a plan,” she said again. “I must make a plan to entice one of the other gentlemen at the gathering. One who would make a better match. If I do so, Mama and Father will have no choice but to allow for it. They’ll harangue me about the missed opportunity, but they’ll settle for what they have and that will be the end of it.”
Yes, that was it. She had to do that.
Only she wasn’t certain how. How did a lady maintain decorum while also pursuing a mate? How did one force a gentleman into seeingheras a future wife without being too flashy or loud orforward? Without discussing inappropriate topics or laughing too loudly or showing too much skin and all while wearing white, white, white to show off her modesty?
There was a light knock on her door and she pivoted toward it. Who could it be? Hester, her maid, had come and gone long ago to prepare her and her mother had seemed distracted since making her statement that a match with Kirkwood would be best. Would she come back now and further her cause?
“Who—who is it?” Clarissa choked out.
“It’s Marianne. Er, Lady Ramsbury.”
