At one point, she leaned toward Mars. “I can’t wait to return to Maidenshop.”
He laced his fingers with her hand. “I can’t either.” Those should have been comforting words, except the stoniness was still with him and there was a bleakness in his expression, a conflict. Or was it a resolve?
Clarissa was suddenly afraid. She didn’t have the gift of sight, but something was not right. It was as if Lord Dervil threatened this fragile world she and Mars were building.
“Let us go tomorrow,” she pleaded, “I miss Dora.” It was an excuse, the lure to have him agree with her. “Someone else can cast the deciding vote against Lord Dervil.”
Except, he didn’t answer, and she sensed he was no longer watching the play either.
So Dervil had thought to taunt him by discomforting Clarissa.
Mars would make him pay for that insult as well. The moment their paths crossed, he would use it as a reason to challenge the man. He really didn’t care about the vote. He had one purpose for being in London. Clarissa had almost made him forget. He should thank Dervil for the clarity.
He tried not to be distracted by his thoughts. He smiled, nodded, commented as if interested.
But he was going to kill Dervil, no matter the cost. He might miss years of Dora’s life if he was in exile, but she would be safe with Clarissa.
He reached for his wife’s hand. They were all crowded in the coach, returning his friends home. He kissed the back of her glove.
Clarissa glanced up at him. Their gazes held.
Did the coach grow quiet? He didn’t know and he didn’t care. His thoughts were dark as he stewed over Dervil’s ogling his wife as if she were one of the actresses on the stage and free for his taking.
They dropped Balfour and Kate home first. Then carried Thurlowe and Gemma to their hotel.
Finally, they were alone. The only light in the coach came from the lamps outside the door. She hadn’t moved away from him as he anticipated she would now that they had more room. Instead, she leaned into him.
“Mars?” He forced a smile, ready to say something pleasant, except she looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the lamps. “Your whole manner changed when you heard about Lord Dervil. But then, you knew he was there from the very beginning of the play, hadn’t you?”
“He should not have behaved toward you in such a common manner.” Anger welled up in him again.
She placed her hand on his thigh. “Please, don’t dwell on it. I was not insulted. Think nothing of it.”
“You forgive too easily,” he challenged. Her body was pressed against his. Her hair smelled of the soaps she favored. Lemon, lavender. Spicy, sharp, evocative.
His wife.
“Perhaps I have something else on my mind.” There was a huskiness in her tone. It brought his attention to her lips.
Before he could question her meaning, the coach rolled to a stop as they reached his residence. Hodner opened the door and Mars climbed out, offering his hand to his wife.
She took it, her movements graceful. He followed her into the house and up the stairs, admiring the gentle sway of her hips.
For the past several days, he’d begun to notice the little things about her that he’d never considered in other women. When Clarissa read, her lips would move as if she argued with the book. Her eyes always widened when something sparked her interest whether it was one of Dora’s expressions or an unexpected new idea, or experience—like this evening. She’d all but disappeared into the play.
He envied her clarity about life, her faith in people. Her example was pushing him to be a better man.
Or so he had thought until he’d noticed Dervil directly across the theater from them shortly before the intermission.
Mars hadn’t been interested in refreshments. He’d suggested going out for them because he wanted to move closer to where Dervil was without drawing attention. He actually hoped to put himself in the man’s path and perhaps provoke a challenge there.
Instead, Dervil had struck at Mars by making Clarissa uncomfortable. He’d treated Mars’s wife in an insulting manner.
The bloody bastard would pay for that... along with his other sins—
“You’ve left again,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. She’d reached the top of the stairs. “What is on your mind? You looked so hard. One moment I think you are with me and in the next, it is as if your mind is someplace else. An unpleasant place.”
Mars nodded to the servant on the floor, Ellis, giving him permission to extinguish the wall sconces and turn in for the night. He took her hand, moving her toward the bedroom. The door was open and a candle burned. He’d already told Nelson not to wait up.
