Chapter 2 #2
“Unfortunately, yes. He’s friends with my fool of a brother. I’m surprised your father let you anywhere near him.”
“Oh, he didn’t know, at least not until it was too late.
” Papa was apoplectic when he learned she’d been meeting Jeffrey in secret during her daily rides in Hyde Park.
He stormed out of the house in high dudgeon, and when he returned, he’d informed her she was betrothed—which was exactly what she wanted, so it all worked out for the best. At least, until she’d learned about Jeffrey’s affair with the Countess of Albemarle.
If he hadn’t been so stubbornly unrepentant, they might have mended things.
After all, they weren’t married yet, so he hadn’t, technically, betrayed his vows.
But he didn’t even try to make things right.
“Too late? What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?” His eyes bored into her.
“I beg your pardon for asking indelicate questions, but if I’m to marry you, I need to know.
Are you with child?” Lord Whitcomb gripped the arms of his chair so hard his fingers turned white.
The furrow in his brow was deep enough to plant seeds in.
She shouldn’t have been surprised by his question, but it still made her wince. While she greatly looked forward to being a mother, she knew exactly what everyone thought of young ladies who got themselves in such a fix.
“Heavens, no! I’m not that foolish. And before you ask, my virtue is intact.
Jeffrey wanted to take liberties, but I never let him, no matter what he says.
I’m here because he’s spreading lies about me to everyone in the ton who will listen.
” Few things could pierce her natural buoyancy, but that raffish toad eater had managed it.
At least briefly. Nothing could keep her down for long.
She stiffened her back and raised her chin.
Was that another flash of sympathy in Lord Whitcomb’s eyes? He let out a long, slow breath, reaching out for her hand but pulling back at the last moment, much to her disappointment. “I’m sorry to hear that. No one deserves such treatment.”
Her heart fluttered at the sudden sympathy in his voice. “I quite agree, darling.”
He gritted his teeth but said nothing. His warm, pleading eyes told her he was softening toward her despite himself.
“Now you know my sad history, but I still don’t know yours. What led you to seek my hand in marriage?” She smiled and leaned forward, barely able to contain her curiosity.
“I’m not seeking…that is…I didn’t come here to…
” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“How did I come to this pass?” he mumbled to himself.
Then, after a long pause, he said, in a muffled way, “Very well.” And then he lowered his hand to look at her directly.
“I’m here because my brother has gambling debts that neither of us can afford to pay, and this is the only way I can save him from debtor’s prison. ”
What a kind, noble man to make such a sacrifice! Mrs. Dove-Lyon had made an excellent choice. A gentleman who would go to such lengths to save his brother should make an exemplary husband. “Your loyalty to your brother is most admirable. It gives me high hopes for our union.”
“High hopes?” His voice went suddenly hoarse.
“Do you need a brandy, Lord Whitcomb?” She stood and went to the decanter on the sideboard. The man was obviously suffering from a dry throat.
“Badly,” he croaked.
She handed him a heavy crystal class filled with the golden liquid that matched the flecks in his eyes.
He drank it down in several gulps.
“Another?” She reached out for his glass, and their fingers brushed as she took it. For a moment, their eyes met, and a flicker of awareness and possibility passed between them. The tension made her tingle down to her toes.
“I’d better not.” He relinquished the glass and averted his gaze.
A pity. For a moment, she thought she was getting somewhere. She returned the glass to its table.
“Lady Clarissa, may I ask what your expectations are regarding this union? I believe we’ll get along better if we are forthright from the start.”
She returned to her seat and grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.
I would be delighted to tell you about my expectations.
You see…” She paused, leaning forward. “I’m hoping for a love match.
In fact, I have my heart set on it.” She had done so ever since her mother explained what a love match was when she was a little girl playing knights and princesses.
Now as a young woman, the novels she read only made her want one all the more.
And Lady Ashton’s fate had made her terrified of the alternative.
He dropped his head into his hands.
“Oh, I know it won’t start out that way.
We barely know each other. And you haven’t had time to get used to the idea of matrimony, let alone me.
But I asked the widow to find me a man I could love with all my heart and who could love me in return.
Papa paid a great deal of money for that stipulation.
And now Mrs. Dove-Lyon has brought me you.
I’m hopeful that with time, we will come to adore each other. ”
Lord Whitcomb’s shoulders rose and fell in a heavy sigh, and then he looked up, his face drawn and careworn.
“I’m afraid the widow made a mistake. I wish you every happiness, but I can’t give you what you seek.
You want a man with a heart, and I have none.
You should ask Mrs. Dove-Lyon for another match.
I’ll find some other means to pay my brother’s debts. ”
Oh dear. She’d done it now. How could she salvage this? All her doubts came crowding in, making her wonder if what she wanted was even possible. Lady Ashton’s fate loomed before her. What if he sent her off after three months and left her to live alone and unloved?
But she was certain he had a heart. He had to!
She simply had to find it. And from the way he was saving his brother, she guessed it was a warm and caring one too, no matter what he said.
“I trust Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s judgment, and I don’t believe she erred.
It’s very kind of you to be concerned about me, but I have faith that this will turn out for the best. Please give us a chance. ”
He stared at her, wide-eyed, shaking his head. “Your optimism knows no bounds, does it?”
She chuckled. “Papa is always saying the same thing. As a little girl, I rescued a rabbit that had gotten its leg mangled in a trap. I was convinced it could make it through with the right care. Papa tutted and said my optimism was going to be my downfall.”
“And what happened to the rabbit?” His sardonic expression didn’t escape her, but she decided to ignore it.
“Mr. Bunnykins lived for three more years. With a limp, of course. Of course, he couldn’t go back to the wild.
But I kept him in a hutch and fed him every day.
He lived like rabbit royalty. I loved him, and he loved me.
He was the best pet I ever had. That’s not the ending you were expecting, was it? ”
He let out a gust of air. “No, I suppose not.”
“I’m lucky, you see. Things have a way of turning out for the best for me. And I just know it’s going to be the same with us.” It had to, because the alternative was unthinkable.
He cleared his throat. “I am not Mr. Bunnykins. And I cannot give you what you want. As I warned you, I have no heart to give. You would be far better off with someone else.”
He was going to take a great deal of convincing. For a moment, her confidence wavered. What if she tied herself to this man, and he was speaking the truth?
No, fortune wouldn’t fail her like that, and she’d already seen cracks in his armor. Beneath all those frowns, she was certain there was an ardent and affectionate heart, despite his efforts to convince her otherwise. She could bring him around with time. She just had to have a little faith.
At that moment, the door at the back of the office cracked wider, and Mrs. Dove-Lyon entered with a rustle of black silk. “How are you two doing in here? Is everything settled?”
“Yes,” Clarissa said at the same time Lord Whitcomb said, “No.”
The widow’s head turned sharply toward Lord Whitcomb.
“You, sir, have no say in this if you want to save your brother’s sorry hide.
It is entirely up to the lady.” She turned slowly to face Clarissa.
“And what do you think, my lady? Is he the one, or would you like to be presented with more candidates? Lord Whitcomb was at the top of my list for you, but if you would prefer to keep searching, I can oblige...for a price, of course.”
Clarissa took a long look at the man across from her, gazing at her imploringly.
It was clear what he wanted, but she strongly suspected it wasn’t what he needed.
It occurred to her in a flash of realization that someone in his past must have hurt him badly for him to be so fearful of love.
Just like a romance hero. She wanted to lead him to the light, show him that the heart could be healed.
It would take time and patience. She was determined to give him both.
“I think he’s perfect. There’s no need to look at any further candidates.”
Lord Whitcomb’s shoulders sagged, and his head hung low.
He wasn’t taking this well. It was only to be expected under the circumstances, but her stomach twisted at forcing this on him.
Under better circumstances, she would have given him all the time he needed to come around, but she wouldn’t have been in The Lyon’s Den if she wasn’t desperate.
“Excellent. I’ll let your parents know. We’ll arrange for the reading of the banns on Sunday, and you can wed in a month.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other appointments I must see to.
” Mrs. Dove-Lyon ushered them both out of the room and down back passages to the side door where she had come in.
“Good day, Lady Clarissa, and felicitations on your betrothal! And good day to you too, Lord Whitcomb. I trust you’ll come around by morning.
The duke will be expecting you to call tomorrow afternoon at four o’clock sharp. Do not be late.”
With that, Mrs. Dove-Lyon disappeared back into her establishment, leaving the two of them on the street beside their waiting carriages.
Clarissa turned to her betrothed. “I shall see you tomorrow, Lord Whitcomb. I know I’ve ruined your day, but I do believe this will all turn out for the best in the end. I promise to do everything in my power to be an excellent wife to you.”
He released a long, slow breath. “Lady Clarissa, I bid you good day.” That wasn’t the most heartening of ways to part, but perhaps it was all she could hope for under the circumstances.
As he was handing her up into her carriage with brisk and disappointing efficiency, he surprised her by lifting her fingers to his lips for the briefest of kisses.
It was over in a moment, but it still managed to make her cheeks heat.
Then he shook his head, dropped her hand like a hot coal, and strode toward his carriage as if he couldn’t escape fast enough.
She watched him go with a sigh. It would all work out for the best, wouldn’t it?
As she climbed into her carriage, a sliver of doubt marred her confidence.
But she quickly tamped it down. He was her knight in shining armor.
Her good fortune wouldn’t abandon her now.
Impossible as it might seem, they would fall for each other and live happily ever after.
Clarissa simply couldn’t allow anything else.