His response was to pick up the book and slide it into a slot on a shelf that was easy for him to reach, but one for which Clarissa would need a ladder. “It is nonsense actually. Nothing important.” He gave his hand back to Dora,who seemed fascinated with gnawing on his fingers.
“Still, it is an accomplishment,” she answered.
“Yes,” he said with a distracted air as he shepherded her out of the library.
She went willingly but she couldn’t wait to sneak back here to read the “Book of Mars.” There was a library ladder in the corner. She could maneuver it to retrieve his diary. She would just have to bide her time.
And then she felt guilty. She shouldn’t pry... and yet the temptation was great. What else did she not know about him?
With Dora in one arm, he took Clarissa’s and led her through two dining rooms, one he called a breakfast room, to the kitchen. Really, all she had to do was follow her nose and the scent of freshly baked bread.
The kitchen was a hive of activity. There were so many hearths and ovens, they could have fed all of Maidenshop. Realizing that Clarissa hadn’t eaten yet, Mars sat her at the kitchen’s center table and offered to have Cook prepare whatever she wished.
Whatever she wished...the thought astounded her. No one had ever catered to her before.
As it was, she was happy with toast, a soft-boiled egg, and tea. She caught sight of one footman, the one she had met yesterday, Peters, whispering to another. Realizing he had been caught, the man smiled, gave a small bow, and said, “We see to the family service. I’m making certain that your preferences will be ready for you in the morning.” He tapped his brow, anindication that what she liked would be saved for the future.
“I’m not picky. Whatever you serve is fine,” Clarissa answered, feeling a bit awkward. She wasn’t accustomed to having so much attention paid to her. It seemed that wherever she went in the house, someone was watching her. She’d believed they acted out of curiosity. Now she realized the servants were anxious to meet her every need, a concept she was not comfortable with.
“We wish you to be happy, my lady,” Peters said.
Had she ever been anywhere where they only wished her to be happy?
Not in a long time.
“I will be happy with whatever you do,” she assured the servants.
Meanwhile, the lord of the manor played with Dora. He sat on the chair beside Clarissa and lifted the baby up into the air. Dora made happy noises and rewarded him with the baby giggles. For a second he appeared stunned and then he burst out laughing himself. It was a carefree sound, a delighted one. He sounded young, unjaded.
All the servants stopped what they were doing and looked at Mars in wonder. So did Clarissa.
The earl noticed her staring. He held up a bright-eyed Dora. “Isn’t she special?”
Yes, she was... but so was a father who could have such pride in his daughter.
Clarissa nodded, taken with how easy hehad adapted to fatherhood. It was as if he’d found a new purpose for his life. He hadn’t even balked at marrying, even with her terms. And once again the tightness of fear and uncertainty that had been her constant companion for as long as she could remember eased ever so slightly.
When Clarissa finished her meal, Dora’s yawn returned them to the nursery. “We can tour the grounds later,” Mars said.
On the way, they ran into Mrs. Warbler and Jane who had just come in from a walk around the gardens. The matron acted as if she was enjoying herself. “You should see them, Miss Taylor. They are magnificent. I just spent an hour learning secrets from your gardener, my lord.”
“What about your housekeeping duties?” Clarissa asked archly.
“I changed that. Don’t you remember? I became your aunt. Lady Fenton and I had a cozy chat last night. She is an intelligent but very intense woman. She approves of you, by the way,” Mrs. Warbler assured Clarissa. “Well, after I finished telling her about your lineage.”
“You will have to tell me one day,” Clarissa answered. “I wouldn’t wish to make you a liar if Lady Fenton questions me on the subject.”
“She won’t,” both Mars and Mrs. Warbler said together, and surprising themselves laughed like old friends.
Mrs. Warbler finished, “She is far too interested in herself to worry about anyone else. I know her kind.”
Clarissa was bemused by the earl and Mrs. Warbler’s acceptance of each other. She and Mars excused themselves and went upstairs.
In the nursery Clarissa changed Dora and gave her a bottle. Mars lingered in the doorway between the two rooms seemingly content to be near his daughter. Clarissa had just put the baby down when Gibson arrived with the information that Mrs. Yarborough, the local dressmaker, was waiting for her in the Green Bedroom.
“Why is she here?” Clarissa asked, confused.
“I sent for her,” Mars explained. “You will go shopping in London—after all, it is one ofmyterms. However, you need something to wear tomorrow and for traveling, no?”
