Indeed, the Reverend Frank Brody presented a conundrum.An attractive man with whom she could not flirt as he was a clergyman, although she longed to do so. The disappointment from this realization lingered as a heaviness within her—so very strange.
A girlish titter from beside her burst in upon her thoughts.What on earth?Clarissa turned in surprise.
Her aunt simpered up at Lord Marchmere, a middle-aged gentleman of ample girth and bulldog-like face. He pressed a kiss onto her knuckles. Clearly not the first. And Dora made no move to remove her hand from his.
This was the third night in a row this man had appeared in her dressing room to flirt with her aunt. It appeared he was keen to make Dora his mistress, despite the probable existence of a Lady Marchmere, who no doubt resided in his Mayfair home for the season.
Surely Aunt Dora wasn’t entertaining the idea of forming a liaison with him?
“Miss Bartlett.” A youngish gentleman dressed in evening clothes of the finest cut, whom she recognized from their introduction on opening night, had entered behind Marchmere. He was blond and dapper in appearance.
She searched her memory for his name.Trantor? Traveller? No, Travener. She offered her hand. “Viscount Travener, a pleasure to see you again. Did you enjoy this evening’s performance?”
He bent over her hand and placed a damp kiss on her fingers. “Indeed, your performance only gets better with each evening.”
Each evening? A surprised laugh escaped her. “You mean to say that you have attended all my performances?” She didn’t know whether to be flattered or disturbed by that level of devotion.
“I wouldn’t miss one,” he replied earnestly.
She blinked at him. She had never encountered this degree of interest in her before. “I’m flattered.” In reality, she was a little flustered.
He smiled down at her, his face benign, his grey eyes full of ardor. “Would you care to join me for supper this evening? I have a table reserved at Rules Restaurant.”
Clarissa made a point of not accompanying gentlemen of short acquaintance to supper or anywhere else. The perils of her profession were poverty and poorly considered affairs of the heart. He seemed a kind gentleman, so she would let him down lightly. “I’m afraid my aunt and I have other plans this evening.” She glanced over to her aunt who was still deep in flirtation with Marchmere.No support there!
“If you mean with Lord Marchmere, then I can assure you that we have a joint booking for four.”
Clarissa’s mouth popped open. She snapped it closed. Her aunt had not told her of this plan. What was going on? “Well, if it is already organized with my aunt, then of course…” Her words trailed away.
A satisfied smiled unfurled on his face.
“Excuse me while I speak with my aunt.” She reached Dora in two steps and hissed in her ear. “Did you accept an invitation to supper from Lord Marchmere and Viscount Travener?”
“Just Lord Marchmere,” her aunt whispered back.
Clarissa raised an eyebrow. “Apparently not alone,” she murmured.
Dora looked disappointed.
“You’re interested in fixing Marchmere’s attentions?”
Her aunt nodded.
Incredulity filled Clarissa. As her aunt seemed unaccountably interested in the bulldog of a man, she felt obliged to comply with her wishes and to socialize with these gentlemen.
Her aunt sent an appraising look over at Lord Travener then patted Clarissa’s hand. “He looks safe enough. Be adventurous, just for once, and come out to supper.” Aunt Dora sent her anI’d-do-it-for-youlook.
Her aunt was right. Travener did look harmless and she’d heard no gossip about his being a rake. “All right.”
Her aunt smiled at her. “That’s my girl. You’re a success now. No need to be shy with your admirers.”
I suppose not. A little bit of social life instead of endless rehearsal for auditions and roles seems a fitting reward for all my hard work and success. She turned to the two gentlemen, whose eyes were fixed on Dora and herself. “Gentlemen, if we are to join you for supper, I need to change. Please wait outside.”
Lord Travener sent her a warm smile, but Clarissa didn’t like the smug look that settled upon Lord Marchmere’s round face. The men exited to rejoin the throng outside her dressing room.
A short time later, Clarissa emerged in a modest silk dress covered by an evening cloak, ready to meet her waiting admirers. Aunt Dora followed and quickly took Lord Marchmere’s offered arm. Summoning a warm smile, Clarissa moved to greet the waiting throng.
For the next few minutes, Clarissa was swamped with attention. Flowers were thrust into her arms. Her hand was kissed by many. Some pushed folded missives into her palm. Would their words be poems to her beauty and grace or offers of assignation?
