“It wouldn’t hurt you,” she answered. “Many a hypocrite has had his soul saved inside those walls.”
“Well, then, they won’t need my soul. There are plenty of hypocrites to keep the Church busy.”
“No, you are too busy chasing your ‘pursuits’ in London. There are terrible rumors about you, my lord. Then again, this is the fruit of your actions.” She nodded to Dora. “Look at her, my lord. She wasn’t born out of love butlust. It is a pity.”
“Most of ushad our starts with lust,” he flashed back.
Was he referring to her and the mystery of her parentage? “No one can say we are all the better for it,” she answered primly.
A glint lit his eye, a sign he was ready to retaliate. “And now, I must ask, is itmyturn?”
“You may proceed,” Clarissa answered, fairly certain there was little he could justifiably find at fault with her. She worked on her flaws. She always tried her best. She was punctual, usually thoughtful, and well-schooled in her manners.
“What annoys me about you, Miss Taylor, is your strong desire to be a matron-in-training.”
“Matron-in-training?” What was he talking about?
“You are judgmental and you always have been. Even when you were shorter than a stump, which was not that long ago.”
“You make fun of my height? My lord, you embarrass yourself with personal complaints.” Although what she really didn’t like was being called judgmental. Clarissa thought herself quite open to people from all levels of society.
Well, save forhim.
He shushed her. “It is my turn now. I find your fussiness to do everything exactly right irritating. I don’t even like your given name. Clarissa. You were preordained to prissiness.”
Clarissa was sorry now she’d taken the high road. “You seem to have a problem with names,” she shot back, matching his disparaging tone. “You don’t like my name. You don’t like Dora’s name—”
He laughed at that. “Again, Menadora is not a name anyone should be forced to carry through life. Although the horse is out of its stall on that one. She is stuck with it.”
“Perhapsyoushouldn’t be sojudgmental.”
He did not miss her barb and she could crow her victory. She smiled. “Perhaps the true reason you don’t like me, my lord, is that you aren’t accustomed to women who are unafraid to challenge you.”
“No, I’m not accustomed toshrews,” he answered, sitting back in his chair as if he’d made his point.
She was made of sterner stuff than to wince over the wordshrew. Men had been using it on strong women since time began. “No,” she agreed sweetly, “you are accustomed to women who abandon their children.”
The air left the room.
His brow turned as dark as a thundercloud. It took all her courage to meet his anger and hold her head high.
Then, he released his breath slowly and drawled, “Better to be wild and entertaining than dull and pious.”
Dull?Clarissa’s hand ached to slap him. “If you are trying to convince me to take a position in your household, my lord, you are miserable at the task.”
Lord Marsden blinked as if realizing the truth of her statement. A stain crept up his neck. He stood abruptly, walked a few paces, gave her his back as if needing to collect himself.
Clarissa sat with the weight of his child in her lap. Poor Dora. What kind of father did she have?
One who claimed her, was the unbidden reply.One who wanted to do what was right for her.
Suddenly, Clarissa came face-to-face with her own culpability.
She could not return to Squire Nelson and his family. Although they had been kind to take her in and treated her as a family member as best as possible, she’d worn out her welcome. If she didn’t find a position, even Mrs. Warbler would tire of her.
After she’d lost Mr. Thurlowe, her goal had been to build a life for herself. She’d suffered a setback with Mrs. Emsdale, still she had to remain optimistic... even if she wished she never had to leave Maidenshop.
And now, here was Lord Marsden offering her a position that allowed her both suitable employmentandher beloved village.
