“I found her in the library and she was crying and I only intended to comfort her, but then we kissed.”
George took a step back. “YoukissedClarissa?”
“Yes.” He sighed, the weight of what came next heavy in so many ways. “Your aunt and uncle, they have designs on her future, as you well know. They played those games out by barging in, with the vicar on their heels, and catching us alone in an at least somewhat compromising position.”
George was silent for a long moment and his expression was unreadable. “I knew they were mercenary, but I never thought they’d go so far. God, that is a mess.”
“They demanded I should wed her to repair the so-called damage to her reputation.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I was such a fool. There isn’t a way out of it. Not without damaging her. Probably damaging me.”
“You’re right.” George looked as sick as Roderick felt. “If this is what they want and how far they’d go to get it, they’ll destroy everything if they think it will get them what they want. Her. You.Everything.”
Roderick shut his eyes. He realized now that he’d not only wanted to reveal the truth in his own way to George, but that he’d hoped his friend could provide him with some palatable escape route. But there was as much surrender to his expression as there had been on Clarissa’s.
“What about her?” he asked, softer now. “Clarissa. She declared she wasn’t part of their schemes. I want to believe her—I told her I did. But I need to know your thoughts. Do you think she was more involved than she declared?”
“No.” There was no hesitation in the answer. “Have I ever told you about the relationship between our families?”
“I don’t think it ever mattered until now.” Roderick motioned to a gazebo that was a few feet away and they entered the coolness of its shade. He sank into one of the benches set in the middle of the space while George went to look out over the rolling hills of the property.
“Our fathers are brothers, of course,” George began. “Hers is far younger than my own, by almost ten years. Uncle Marcus was raised spoilt and the fact that there was little for him to do in the worlddidn’t help. My father would be earl eventually one day, of course, so he was raised with that in mind. The next brother went into the military. Another invested his inheritance very well and has a leisurely life as a gentleman growing tomatoes and attending salons. But Marcus? He took the same inheritance and squandered it. Like it was never-ending. And I suppose he had good reason. While my grandmother lived, his living was always replenished. But when she died…well, my father gave him a final sum and told him he would have to make it last because there would be no more.”
Roderick shut his eyes. “Jesus. I assume he was livid.”
“I think livid and terrified. He was married by then, of course. They’d spent through my aunt’s dowry, as well, and Clarissa had already been born. They tried and tried to have a son, but failed. Sometimes tragically.”
“He had no thought to take on a profession? Perhaps the clergy or the military? I know your father. He isn’t cruel, I’m sure he would have assisted.”
“Oh yes, he would have.” George rolled his eyes. “But none of that was good enough for my uncle. He was a gentleman and he scoffed at the idea of being so grubby as toearnmoney. Even said it in front of his fine and decent brothers who did just that. As he became more desperate, the rest of the family distanced themselves all the more.”
“Cutting Clarissa off, as well.”
“Yes. In fact, she’s the only reason we are still linked with them in any way. She has a little money in her coffers, but most of that has been stripped away by the greed of her parents. They became obsessed with matching her well and their grasping behavior probably harmed her more than helped. I suppose that’s part of why she leaned into the idea of being entirely proper. Because her parents implied that was why she wasn’t matching, yes. But also to counterbalance their outlandish actions.”
Roderick thought of Clarissa and her book of comportment. Her vague statements when she was overwhelmed that it was impossibleto have moderation. Her wearing of plain white, of never drawing attention to her hair or her pretty face.
“She is as desperate as they are,” he murmured.
“And yet she’s more clever than both of them put together. And I believe with all my heart that she would never agree to go along with a scheme to trick a man into marriage. She is a victim. I know it even before I speak to her about this travesty.”
Roderick sagged slightly in relief. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted Clarissa to be true. If he was going to be bound to her for life, likely share children with her, homes, a future…he couldn’t bear it if she were a charlatan. Or the kind of person willing to lie to get what she wanted.
“This is a nightmare,” Roderick said softly.
George nodded even as he said, “Perhaps it won’t be as bad as you fear.”
“It…it isn’t what I wanted.”
Now there was pity that leapt into his friend’s eyes. “I know. I know what you wanted. But how likely was it that you would truly meet the love of your life out there in the wide world? That you’d be thunderstruck in an instant?”
“Well, now the chance is exactly zero.”
“I’m sorry.”
He knew his friend was honest about that. He was sorry. He looked up toward the house, trying to find the window to the library where they’d kissed. Then he sighed. “You and Clarissa are close, I know. Do you have any advice on how to discuss the future with her?”
George seemed to ponder that question a moment. “She is…uncertain. A life being constantly criticized and held up as the savior of the family did that. I would suggest you be gentle with her. The shock of this must be overwhelming to her.”
Roderick nodded. “Yes. Gentle. I’ll try.”
