Francis’s older brother, William, who had a military bearing and a harsh face, arrived last. Introductions made, and his welcoming words added to those of his family, he turned to Francis. “So tell me, brother, how you come to be married, andso quickly, to the belle of Covent Garden? When I left you at The Regent Theatre you professed it your duty to become acquainted with Miss Bartlett. I see you have created a new definition for professional interest.” He lightened his words with a chuckle and a swift grin at his brother.
Some of his sisters gasped at his bluntness. Jane covered her smile with a hand, while her husband raised a dark eyebrow. All eyes riveted to Francis.
Clarissa stepped closer to her husband and settled her hand into the crook of his arm. “Well, that’s quite a story,” she said with her most charming smile fixed on her face. Her gaze swept the group. “Shall we start at the beginning, Frank?”
“I fear we must, my dear,” he answered with gusty sigh, playing to the audience as she had hoped he would.
They related their history with all the dramatic embellishment they had practiced while reading lines together during their enforced co-habitation. And his family loved its telling, rewarding them with exclamations, gasps and laughter, as each scene required. At the conclusion of their tale, the sisters hurried forward to hug Clarissa. Tears prickled her eyes at their warmth towards her.
They sat down to a hearty dinner, fit for a winter’s day. Once the soup course had been removed, the main course served, and their wine glasses filled, the Marquis called for everyone to raise their glasses to toast to the newlyweds and formally welcome Clarissa to their family.
Their kindness sent heat flooding her face. The flush to her cheeks had just subsided when his lordship resumed speaking. “Jane also organized thisdinner to celebrate Francis’s appointment to the living that I promised him some time ago…to occur when the present incumbent retired.”The Marquis raised his glass again. “To Francis, congratulations on being appointed to the living at Everslie. Reverend Ramsdown hasfinallyretired.He decided in a hurry over Christmas and informed me just before we returned to London. I think he feels his age at last.”
The company raised their glasses and drank to him. Their good wishes chimed in over the top of each other.
“Congratulations, Francis.”
“At last.”
“I’m so pleased.”
“A home for you both.”
Excitement for Francis bubbled through Clarissa. Francis had been appointed to a living and would have his own home!
Beside Clarissa, Francis stiffened in his seat. He lifted his glass in acknowledgement. “Thank you. This takes me by surprise.” He didn’t look overjoyed about the news like his family.
“What’s wrong, Francis?” Clarissa whispered before taking a sip of her drink.
“We can discuss it later.”
This sounds ominous.She turned to their host. “Lord Dalton, is Francis’s new parish close to London?” she asked hopefully.
A flicker of confusion passed over his face and he glanced at Francis before answering. “No. The living is in Hampshire, based around my family’s estate.”
“Hampshire!” Her stomach sank.In the country. So far away. Oh god, the mud.
Lord Dalton dipped his chin.
“That is extremely generous of you, Lord Dalton,” she said through numb lips. And she meant her words too, but at the same timeClarissaknew she could not live there.Shestill could not see herself as a rector’s wife happily going to church and doing good works, while raising Francis’s children, as would be expected of her.Let alone living in the wilds of Hampshire.
Francis fidgeted on his chair then met her gaze. “Would you be willing to try residing in Hampshire with me? If you don’t enjoy life there, you could return to your career in London in time for the next season.”
The table went quiet, waiting for her answer. She scanned the assembled company. All eyes were on her. On the whole, they were kindly eyes, but speculation was rich within them.
“I’m not…I don’t believe I’m in a position to leave London for the joys of country living yet. When I have a solid career behind me perhaps, but not now.”
“Will you not try?” Francis asked. There was a strained note of pleading in his lowered voice.
She frowned at him. Why did he not understand how important her career was to her? Disappointment and sadness filled her. “No, my love, I cannot.”
“Is it not your duty as my wife to support me in my endeavors?” he exclaimed. “I need you.” There was pain in his voice.
Someone coughed politely.Was that Jane? Does she disagree with the idea that Francis’s career is more important than my own and the view that I ought to support him as a priority?
Clarissa clenched her jaw, determined not to point out that, at present, she was probably the bigger money earner by far of either of them, and able to support him financially. She glanced around. All interest remained on them, albeit discretely.
Jane spoke up. “Francis, perhaps you should take some time to consider whether a living in Hampshire will serve your interests best?”
