Chapter 7
Doubt gnawed at David’s mind as he rearranged the hideous brocade cushions in his drawing room, as if doing so would somehow make the space less sad and garish.
He didn’t often have company, and when he did, he couldn’t have cared less what they thought of his décor.
But Clarissa was different. This would be her home, at least for a time. How would she see it?
It shouldn’t have mattered. Whether true or not, Effingham’s accusation made her plight all the more dire.
She couldn’t afford to walk away from their arrangement, no matter how depressing and poorly appointed his home might have been.
And he couldn’t afford to walk away from her either, even if she was with child.
Nor did he want to, which worried him a great deal.
The problem was that he believed her, despite having no proof beyond her word that the rumor of her pregnancy was false.
He was an idiot like that. He trusted where he shouldn’t have.
There was something defective about his foolish stony heart.
He’d trusted Laura despite a thousand warning signs.
What possible reason could he have to believe Clarissa?
“How was church?” Charles’ voice startled David so badly that he knocked over a side table. “Did they read the banns? When are you going to tell me who you’re marrying?”
“You could have attended church yourself to find out,” David responded, earning a scoff from his brother.
Charles, maybe more than anyone, needed church.
David checked himself; who was he to judge his brother?
But, then again, if it wasn’t for Charles and his irascible behavior, he wouldn’t be in this mess.
That, in part, was the reason he hadn’t shared the identity of his bride.
Now that she was coming to the house, though, he could hardly hide it any longer. “It’s Lady Clarissa, the Duke of Wellington’s daughter.”
Charles frowned. “What? Effingham’s chit? Good God.”
The urge to throttle his little brother was becoming all too familiar. “She’s not ‘Effingham’s chit,’ and if you call her that again, I will throw you out of the house without a penny to your name.”
David righted the side table with a loud thud and leaned on it, glaring at his brother.
Charles raised his hands and stepped back. “Apologies. ‘Lady Clarissa’ it is, then. No need to be so tetchy! I’m just surprised is all. And perhaps a bit worried. Jeffrey swears they are still engaged and even mentioned that she’s…er…increasing. After Laura, I would have thought—”
“Do. Not. Mention. Laura.” Was there anyone under the firmament as obnoxious as Charles? Aside from that bastard, Effingham, of course… And that godforsaken footman who had absconded with his unfaithful wife. “And I’ll thank you to remember that I’m doing this to save your precious neck.”
“For which you have my everlasting thanks, but isn’t there some other damsel in distress you could rescue from ruin?
Effingham isn’t going to take this well.
He has some very nasty debt collectors after him, and this match was supposed to be his salvation.
And believe me when I tell you he does not react charitably when someone takes something he sees as his.
I accidentally drank his cognac at White’s once, and he deliberately spilled red wine down my front in revenge.
He doesn’t even drink red wine! He ordered it specifically so that he could ruin my best waistcoat.
And that was just over a bit of tipple. I hate to think what he might do over a stolen fiancée. ”
That Effingham was a selfish, vengeful lout was not surprising in the least. “I’m not worried about what he’ll do to me. I’m more than a match for him on his best day. It’s what he’ll do to her that makes me uneasy.”
The doorbell rang in the distance. She was here. His heart did a funny thumpity-thump as he switched the pillows one last time. “That must be the duke and Lady Clarissa now. I expect you to be on your best behavior, Charles. I mean it.”
“When am I ever not on my best behavior?” The vexing rogue had the temerity to smirk.
Meanwhile, Billings arrived in the doorway with his customary professional frown fixed in place. “The Duke of Wellington and his daughter, Lady Clarissa, are at the door to see you, my lord. Shall I show them in?”
David stood tall and straightened his waistcoat and jacket. At least he was presentable, even if his house wasn’t. “Yes, please, and have Mrs. Pippin fetch tea.”
“Very good, sir.” Billings turned and walked away, each footstep tightening the tension in David’s chest.
“Nervous about seeing your blushing bride?” Charles’ smirk deepened as they awaited the arrival of their guests.
“Shut up, you horse’s ass!” David had had enough of Charles’ needling for one day.
“I hope you don’t plan to kiss Lady Clarissa with that foul mouth of yours.”
“Oh, you’re one to talk, you toad-brained, ill-bred, vulgar—”
Billings entered, clearing his throat, and David snapped his mouth shut. Bollocks. The duke and Clarissa were right behind him; had they overheard him berating his brother? He searched the duke’s features as the man entered the room and was relieved to see no sign of it.
As he turned to Lady Clarissa, his breath caught.
How was it possible for her to grow more captivating each time he saw her?
With the way the sun caught her ravishing red hair and tenuous smile, he could swear she descended from the heavens, a radiant angel sent to shatter the calcified shell surrounding his scarred and calcified heart.
Or heal it. He hardly knew which.
He realized he was staring at her. Say something, you lummox!
Giving himself a little shake, he turned back to the duke.
“Your Grace, what a pleasure it is to welcome you to my humble home. Lady Clarissa, I’m delighted to see you again this morning.
” David bowed his head and did his best not to look like a besotted fool.
“I’d like to introduce my younger brother, Charles. ”
Please be on your best behavior, Charles!
His brother looked back and forth between him and Lady Clarissa with wide eyes and raised an eyebrow at him before turning to the duke.
Fortunately, Charles appeared to rein in his roguish side, at least for the moment.
“Your Grace, my lady, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He bowed his head.
“I know that your business is with my brother, not me, so, if no one minds, I’ll excuse myself. ”
Oh, thank God!
When the duke inclined his head in a nod, Charles turned to leave, stopping briefly out of sight of their guests in the hall, where he smirked and waggled his eyebrows. The bounder! Then he disappeared down the hall.
A knot formed in the pit of David’s stomach.
If Charles suspected him of tender feelings toward Clarissa, he would never hear the end of it.
“Please, have a seat. I apologize for the state of the room. I’ve been meaning to redecorate since my father passed, but something or other has always gotten in the way.
Perhaps, Lady Clarissa, you might help me update it when you take up residence. ”
Her face lit up like a summer’s day as she took a seat on the chesterfield. “I would be simply delighted to cheer this place up for you.”
The duke gave David a sympathetic smile as he settled beside Clarissa.
“You certainly know the way to a lady’s heart, Whitcomb.
There is nothing my wife loves better than an improvement project, and I’m afraid Clarissa is much the same.
Watch yourself, or you’ll be buried alive in fabric swatches before the month is out. ”
“I can think of worse deaths, Your Grace.” Far worse. The battle against Napoleon had been a charnel house at times. He could never bring himself to speak of such things aloud. Not that he would raise such specters with Clarissa present.
“Quite right. Quite right,” the duke said, giving him a knowing glance. “I came here today to discuss happier things. A wedding! What could be happier than that?”
What was the duke up to? There was some scheme afoot. David would bet his life on it. Because the morning had been anything but happy.
“In fact,” the duke continued, “I don’t see why we should stand on ceremony and wait three weeks for the reading of the banns. I’ve pulled some strings to get you a special license.” He pulled folded papers from within his coat. “And the two of you can wed this very day, if you wish.”
There was no mistaking an order from a superior officer, even if His Grace gave it in David’s own drawing room with a gracious smile.
“Papa!” Lady Clarissa’s cheeks had taken on a most striking color. At a moment like this, David shouldn’t have been contemplating her comeliness, but he was, much to his distress. “If we marry now, everyone will think Jeffrey’s lies are true!”
From the look Wellington gave his daughter, it was clear he’d had the same doubts as everyone else who heard Effingham’s poison.
Damn that deceitful scoundrel! He’d even managed to seed doubt between a doting father and his beloved daughter.
David wanted to rail against the lies, defend her honor, howl against the injustice of it all.
But he forced himself to hold back. He had no proof of anything.
Not to mention that the duke was not a man with whom to be trifled. David had to tread carefully.
“Your Grace, if you wish to move up the date of our nuptials, I shall oblige, but I agree with Lady Clarissa that it may appear to give proof that Effingham’s slander was correct.”
The duke let out a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid the damage has already been done.
Whether there is truth in what he says or not, everyone in the ton believes him.
I won’t subject Clarissa to having her name publicly besmirched by that rogue any longer.
” He paused, then lowered his voice. “And there is another reason.”