Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
A nother week had gone by and Roderick was restless. His wife was perfect. No one could deny it. She did all her duties with a smile. Her kindness toward the servants only increased and it seemed they all adored their new mistress. When she hosted friends, she always impressed with her easy skill at making all feel welcome and special.
But despite whatever advancement he made in their relationship when he took her to his bed and awakened her passion, she let none of that bleed into their everyday existence. She spoke to him of surface topics, she pulled away from anything she feared and she hadn’t yet worn the pink gown he’d had designed for her, even though the completed dress had been delivered a few days before.
Could he live like this? Falling more deeply in love with her every day but never being able to mount the walls she built like a princess in a tower? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t ready to give up the idea that one day he would find the weakness to that tower and bring it down.
“My lord?”
He turned away from the window in his study and found Stevenson waiting for him. “Yes, Stevenson?”
“Lady Kirkwood’s parents have arrived for tea,” Stevenson said. “ You were, of course, meant to be out before your morning meeting was canceled. And I fear Lady Kirkwood is engaged in a household issue and will be a few more moments.”
Roderick pursed his lips, wondering why she hadn’t told him her parents were coming. Though he supposed it made sense. She knew he was upset at their taking advantage of her financially and even more so by how they had made her feel not enough.
“I’ll join them,” he said. “Which parlor are they in?”
“The blue parlor, my lord,” Stevenson said with a grateful smile. “I’ll inform her ladyship that you have joined them.”
“Very good.”
Roderick tugged his clothing into place as he went down the hallway to the parlor in question. He was about to push the door open when he heard his father-in-law talking.
“—blasted girl had one job to do. We got her married off to a rich earl and you’d think she could manage to be grateful enough to support us.”
“Well, tell her so when she comes in,” Mrs. Lockhart said. “She owes us.”
Roderick’s nostrils flared and he pushed the door open. “Good afternoon,” he said, his tone clipped.
They both turned toward him and suddenly they were all obsequious welcome, bowing and tittering.
“We did not know we’d have the pleasure, my lord,” Mrs. Lockhart said. “Our daughter led us to believe you would be out during our visit.”
“A late change of plans,” Roderick said as he fought not to glare at the woman. “Clarissa thought I would be out.”
“It seems she should have a better handle on her husband’s schedule,” Mr. Lockhart blustered. “I hope she’s doing her duties as countess well enough.”
Roderick drew in a long breath to remain calm. “She is perfect.”
Her father snorted but said nothing else on the subject. Instead, he crossed to where the tea service was and examined the biscuits and tea. “That girl knows I like the raspberry jam best. Honestly,” he muttered. “You would think she could keep one simple thing in her mind.”
Roderick moved forward. “I’m not fond of raspberry,” he said with a frown. “And we hardly ever have it in the house because of that. And your daughter keeps a great many things in her mind, all of which seem to be about ensuring you two are happy. Even though you clearly think little of her feelings.”
Mrs. Lockhart spun on him. “I-I cannot imagine what you mean?”
He drew in a deep breath. He’d told Clarissa she could manage her own affairs and perhaps he should allow her just that. But with these two disparaging her in his house, in her house, it was too much to bear.
“I have become aware that she is giving you two-thirds of her monthly pin funds,” he said. “Even though those are supposed to be for her pleasure and her good. Why would you do such a thing?”
Both his in-laws’ eyes went wide at that question and they exchanged a quick glance. Roderick searched for embarrassment at their base behavior. Regret. He saw none. Only calculation of how they should handle him so that they could continue a lifestyle they could only support on Clarissa’s back.
“Our daughter’s pleasure has always been to take care of her parents,” Mrs. Lockhart said. “We raised her well.”
Roderick pursed his lips. “Was that her pleasure because to deny you only brought her harm? She turned out well, but I would argue it was despite the way she was raised, not because of it.”
Mr. Lockhart’s nostrils flared. He was clearly the kind of man whose inflated sense of entitlement didn’t allow him to accept criticism. He would lash out, that was evident even before he said, “Well, she has plenty under you, doesn’t she? She can afford to help her parents, who took care of her.”
“As was their duty,” Roderick said. “And for which she owes nothing.”
“Marcus,” Mrs. Lockhart said, and grabbed her husband’s arm .
He shook her off and continued to stare at Roderick. “If she can afford to share her wealth, I see no reason not to tell her my requirements.”
Roderick slowly counted to ten to calm his increasing anger. “I want you to see it from her side. The reason for that pin money would give her some independence. The only thing you knew about me when you forced this union was that I was titled and rich. What if I had been an ogre? What if I was the sort of man who hurt or controlled her? What if she needed that allowance for her daily requirements, not just niceties?”
Her mother stared at him like he’d sprouted a second head. It seemed she truly didn’t understand the concept. “If Clarissa displeases a husband enough that he lifts a hand against her or punishes her, it sounds as though she needs to apply herself more. It wouldn’t be our problem, would it?”
Roderick’s mouth dropped open at the idea that they would blame Clarissa if she had been forced by them into a marriage with a man who would harm her. “You two are monsters. To care so much for yourselves and so little for her well-being. It stops now.”
Before her parents could answer, Clarissa burst into the room, her face pale and her eyes darting toward him. “Oh, I’m here. Please don’t argue. I’m here now.”
“And good you are,” Mr. Lockhart said, and now his ire turned on Clarissa. “I think you have been complaining to your husband. Turning him against us.”
“No.” Clarissa shook her head. “I would not do such a thing, I promise you.”
Roderick ached at her tone. At how broken and fearful she sounded. “Clarissa, they hold no power over you anymore,” he said softly. “They cannot take anything away from you, you don’t have to protect them from the consequences of their own poor actions. You deserve better. You always have.”
Clarissa jerked her attention to him and their eyes locked. He stepped toward her, all the love he felt for her rising up in him. But at last she bent her head and then returned her gaze to her parents. “Roderick knows I’ve been sharing my pin money with you. He’s kindly concerned about my well-being. Perhaps overly so. I have no intention of changing our agreement. You needn’t cause trouble.”
Her mother’s lips twitched. “Cause trouble? It isn’t us. It’s you. He might not know better, but you should.”
Clarissa’s lips parted and she glanced at Roderick again. “Why—why would you think he wouldn’t know better? What does that mean?”
“His parents are dead, that’s all I meant,” her mother said with the same blank expression she seemed to always have when she fired shots toward her daughter.
Roderick moved forward, but to his surprise, Clarissa was already rushing toward her parents. There was no deference to her now, only flared nostril indignation as she said, “How dare you bring that up? How dare you throw his greatest loss, his deepest pain, into his face?”
“Oh, please!” her father snorted. “It happened years ago. It’s merely an observation.”
Clarissa shook her head, disgust on her face. “This man has been nothing but decent, even when you two were anything but. By your behavior, you dishonored not just me, but yourselves, and yet he is still a gentleman.”
Her parents exchanged a look, seemingly shocked that she would speak in such a way. “I dare say you ought to have some respect for your elders, Clarissa,” her father blustered.
She blinked and then shook her head. “Roderick is worth ten of you, Father. And I know that, even if I continue to politely ignore it in your company. This is his home and I am his wife. Understand that I shall ever take his side in all things. You’ll never turn me against him for your purposes. If you press me on that, you won’t like the results.”
There was a long moment of silent shock and Roderick’s was the largest share of it. Here Clarissa refused to stand up for herself, but when it came to defending him she surrendered all her thoughts on what she owed her family. He had not had a champion like that, someone to fight at his side like some avenging angel, for many years. He’d forgotten how wonderful it was.
“I think perhaps it’s time for you two to go,” Roderick said softly as he motioned for the door.
“I think so,” Mr. Lockhart said, and grabbed his wife’s arm. They stormed from the room together, Clarissa’s father calling for their carriage and slamming the front door with great force.
Clarissa wobbled a little and braced her hand on the back of a chair. Her breath was rough and harsh as she tried to gather herself. Then she looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Roderick.”
He shook his head and crossed to her, taking her hand and lifting it to her chest. What he felt couldn’t be contained now. He needed her to know it, to feel it, to begin to trust it, or at least understand that he was going to fight for it.
He needed to take a risk so that she would begin to feel comfortable to do the same.
He drew a deep breath of his own and said, “Clarissa, I love you.”
C larissa already felt wobbly after the confrontation with her parents, but now she nearly toppled over. It was only that Roderick steadied her that kept her on her feet. She stared at him, uncertain now if all of this was just some heated dream.
It had to be. She knew where they stood.
“You don’t mean that,” she whispered at last.
He shook his head. “I very much do.” She tried to pull away, but he didn’t release her. “I know it’s frightening. It is for me, too. Love can mean loss. I felt it myself and it was terrible. But it’s also so beautiful. Our life could be so beautiful, Clarissa, if you let me love you. If you find it in your heart to try to love me in return.”
“I thought you believed in lightning. Instant recognition,” she said. “We both know that isn’t us.”
“I do believe in lightning. I am struck down by your mercy. The lightning hit after the storm began, that’s all. I never should have been so rigidly dedicated to the idea that it could only come in one way. Life isn’t rigid. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. You taught me that instead.”
She was shaking so hard, she feared letting go of the back of the chair. What could she say to these words, so sweet and yet so confounding? This man loved her? She wanted to burst into tears. To collapse into a puddle. To spin around the room in circles. Joy and terror and disbelief all at once.
“I’ve overwhelmed you,” he said. “I’m sorry. I only realized I couldn’t wait to tell you. I needed you to know. You can have all the time in the world to come to terms with this. To think about it. But understand that I intend to woo you most ardently. I intend to prove to you that those two jackals who just stormed out of our home were wrong. Every part of you is lovable. Every bit of you is enough. You are and never could be too much to adore. And I do adore you.”
Tears stung her eyes, but she couldn’t control them. Moderation was far out of reach and so they fell, dragging down her cheeks, overwhelming her. With a gasp, she pulled away from him. “I need…I need to think. I need…I need to go, to gather myself.”
“Yes,” he said. “I can have a carriage brought if you need to go somewhere. Please, not to your parents.”
“No,” she breathed. “To…I don’t even know who I could go to.” Then she stopped. “Lady Ramsbury. Marianne. She was so kind in the countryside.”
He smiled a little. “I think that’s a fine idea. Talk to her about it. You deserve to have friends who you can confide in, be yourself with. Let me call the carriage.”
He stepped out with a backward look for her. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the edge of the chair back where her hands rested. How was this real? How was this happening.
But no, she had to gather herself. She stood and smoothed her gown, trying to put herself back together. Roderick returned. “The carriage is being brought. Let me help you? ”
She nodded. This was all so dreamlike. This man had confessed to the deepest, most powerful feelings for her, and now he was helping her run away from him and them. Giving her control, the one thing she’d always reached for and perhaps never really had.
He gave it like it was water or food, something to share for sustenance, not withhold for cruelty.
They stepped out and he waved off a footman waiting to help her into the vehicle. He opened the door, but didn’t move to help her up. Instead he cupped her cheeks, lowered his lips to hers, and kissed her.
He had kissed her so many times, but this was different. It was so gentle, so filled with the very love he had just declared. She found herself clinging to his arms, lifting into him like she could escape the spinning terror of her heart with him.
But at last he let her go. “I love you,” he whispered, then handed her up into the vehicle, closed the door and waved to her from the front door.
She pulled away from him, but there was no peace in escape. In fact, now that he was not there to ground her anymore, she felt more adrift than ever. And more uncertain as to how to respond to the man who offered her a life she’d never dared dream of.
A life that felt almost too good to be true.