“If you are concerned that she will cause a scene, I’m happy to escort you to your lodgings every evening until you are confident your aunt will not accost you.” He seemed utterly sincere.
His kindness towards her warmed her heart. He was a good man.
***
Early in the afternoon of the next day, Clarissa answered a knock on the door of her boarding house room to find the young girl who acted as a general servant standing there. “You have visitors, miss. They’re in the sitting room awaiting you.”
Apprehension filled her. No one but Francis knew she had moved here, did they? Had he brought someone with him?
She hurried downstairs and into the visitor’s sitting room. Her heart sank at the sight she found there. Her aunt, escorted by Marchmere and Travener, stood in the center of the room.
The men looked uncomfortable in these humble surroundings. Marchmere’s curled lip showed his distaste. Travener held her gaze with a hint of challenge in his eyes.
Her aunt stalked towards her. “There you are, Clarissa. I’ve been so worried about you,” she announced loud enough for their audience to hear. Enveloping Clarissa in an embrace, Aunt Dora whispered in her ear, “Thought you could get away from me, did you?” There was menace in her voice. Her aunt’s woolen dress scratched against Clarissa’s hands, folded in front of her.
Clarissa jerked out of Dora’s arms. “Our association is ended, as I wrote in the letter I left for you,” she answered, her voice as cold as the winter wind blowing outside.
“Oh, but Clarissa, the gentlemen and I have come to take you for lunch. Surely, you can still spare some time for your aunt and friends?” she announced with an arch look at the menfolk.
Clarissa’s stomach churned at the thought of more time in their company. “I would rather not. I don’t care foryourfriends,” she answered sotto voce.
“Of course, you can,” said Aunt Dora for the benefit of the room’s other occupants. “We need to discuss the terms of your debt to me for the last five years,” she hissed. Dora turned to the gentlemen and gave them a wide smile. “We will join you in the carriage shortly, if you like?”
Clearly happy to depart the lowly boarding house, the gentlemen left. But not before Travener sent her a look filled with dark intent over his shoulder as he departed. Clarissa’s blood froze in her veins.
Her aunt grasped Clarissa’s forearm in a steely grip. “And now, get your pelisse, you’re coming to lunch.”
Clarissa pulled her arm from her aunt’s clasp. “I will not.”
Her aunt’s hand flashed out. The slap burned every inch of Clarissa’s cheek. A squeak of surprise left her mouth as her hand shot to her face. She tasted blood.
Her aunt had never hit her before. Dora’s way had always been subtle manipulation. Not that it had been required very often, as Clarissa had yearned for the success on stage her aunt had proposed when she arrived to spring Clarissa from the Duke Street Orphanage, five years ago.
“Get your pelisse, Clarissa,” her aunt ordered through gritted teeth.
“No.”To hell with you.
Her aunt examined her with a speculative look in her eyes. “Listen, my dear. If you humor me now and come to lunch, and listen to my proposal for your future with Lord Travener like a civilized person, I will tell you all I know about your father.”
Come again!“What do you know about my father?”
“I know everything about him.”
Clarissa grabbed her aunt’s arm. “Tell me now,” she demanded.
“I’ll not tell you a thing unless you agree to take Lord Travener as your protector. We need the money and security that he and Lord Marchmere can provide. We’ve survived so far on my savings and what your mother left you, but no longer, even with you as a popular performer. I’ve run out of dosh!”
Clarissa closed her gaping mouth. She had waited her whole life to find outanythingabout her father and now her aunt told her she knew everything about him. And they had run out of money. How, when she had been earning so much this season? Her mother had left money too and that was gone?
The only way she was going to find out any of the answers she needed was to accompany her aunt.In a daze, she left the room and trudged up the three flights of stairs to her room. She pulled on a matching pelisse and tied the ribbons of her bonnet under her chin. What was she to do? She secured the top of her bonnet to her hair with her longest steel hatpin. At least she had a weapon, just in case she needed one.
When she arrived back in the sitting room, Aunt Dora threaded her arm through Clarissa’s and urged her from the room and out the entrance of the boarding house. In front stood Marchmere’s carriage, its door was open, waiting to swallow her.
Her aunt bundled Clarissa into the busy Covent Garden street with its winter smell of slush and muck. From all around came the sounds of trundling cartwheels, horses, and loud voices. A dog paused in its progress to give a quick woof and pee on the carriage wheel.
Clarissa looked around in dismay. Would anyone help her if she struggled against this coercion? Probably not.
Her aunt tugged her inexorably across the crowded pavement towards the open carriage door. Clarissa’s limbs began to shake. She was torn between wanting to know about her father and escaping the fate that awaited her at the hands of these three people.
