An Unsuitable Match (25 page)

‘Go on,' he murmured.

A warm, powerful hand lifted her chin and she looked into his eyes.

‘I received a letter when I turned nineteen, informing me I had been left a substantial inheritance. The details it contained left me with no option but to confront my mother as to my true parentage. When I showed her the letter she became hysterical. Crying and tearing at her clothes like a woman possessed. It was truly the most awful thing I have ever seen.'

Tears rolled freely down her face. When David tried to wipe them away, she stopped him.

‘We screamed at each other. I said the most horrible of things to her before I finally fled the room and ran to the stairs. And then, because of me, she fell down the stairs . . .'

Clarice buried her face in her hands. David pulled her firmly into his arms and wrapped them around her. The wind dropped and then stilled. Clarice was silent in David's arms for what seemed an eternity.

‘That's odd,' he finally remarked.

Clarice lifted her head. ‘What is?'

‘That bird. It's a snow bunting; they are native to the peaks of Scotland, and I've never seen one in England. Scottish folklore tells that they are the soul of a departed one.'

She looked at the bird on a nearby branch. It was studying them both. Her breath caught in her throat.

Please, please.

‘It appears to have taken up residence in the dell,' she replied. Now was not the time to tell him that she thought of the bird as her mother returned in spirit.

‘David?' she said turning back to him. Other than to make mention of an ornithological aberration, he had said nothing of her secret.

‘I love you,' he whispered.

His lips descended and met her mouth as his name escaped her lips. Softly, teasingly, he kissed her bottom lip over and over. Heat flared within her. Their tongues began their now-familiar dance. Hands cupped under her ears, David held Clarice's face as he deepened the kiss.

Locked deep in his embrace, she silently chided herself. His answer was not to be found in the long speech she had expected him to give, it was in his passionate claiming of her. She slipped a hand inside the opening of his coat and laid it over his heart. They had years ahead of them to talk about her past, to dissect the minutiae of events. He had given his response and that was all that mattered. He released her lips.

‘Thank you,' he said.

She looked confused. ‘Why are you thanking me?'

‘Because you trusted me with your secret.'

In the hands of others it could be used to destroy her. If the truth was ever known she would be ostracised from society, her father branded a liar.

‘You don't think any less of me?'

David harrumphed. ‘Why should I? Your mother's death was an accident; she slipped on the stairs. It was no-one's fault. And as for your birth, you are Langham's daughter and always will be. No-one can prove otherwise. While I am humbled beyond words that you have shared this knowledge with me, it changes nothing.'

She nodded. ‘I confided in Lady Alice not long after we arrived here, but I have never made mention of the letter to Papa.'

‘Will you tell him now?'

‘I'm not sure. As things stand between us at this moment, revealing it to him could shatter our relationship forever. He is the only father I have ever known; I couldn't bear to lose him.'

David brushed a wayward curl behind her ear and kissed her forehead. Considering everything that had happened, she would not have blamed him if he did tell her to throw the truth in her father's face.

‘Of course he is still your father. He has raised you as his own, given you his name and with it legitimacy. Unless he brings it up himself, you should never make mention of it. Let the memories of your years as a family stay intact. He deserves your loyalty.'

Clarice rose up on her toes and kissed David. ‘I love you.'

‘About time,' he said, chuckling.

Clarice took David inside the small chapel and they sat for a time, hand in hand in quiet reflection. After gathering some fresh flowers for Elizabeth's grave, they kissed once more. Now, with an unbreakable bond, they would face their future together.

As they reached the top of the path leading back to the house, they heard the flutter of wings and saw the bird fly overhead.

‘Yes, very odd,' David muttered.

It was late afternoon by the time their carriage pulled into the yard at Sharnbrook. David could not have been more relieved to see his new home.

Three days travelling with Clarice and her grandmother had been pleasant enough, but although he tried to distract himself by reading, he could not stop worrying over Clarice.

All those years she had spent with the guilt of her mother's death, and he had not been able to comfort her. He wanted to blame someone, and vacillated between Lady Elizabeth and Lord Langham. The countess for having left Clarice at such a vulnerable point in her life, the earl for having kept David at bay.

I should have been there to help her. I could have eased her pain.

Clarice herself sat quietly in the carriage, saying little, staring out the window. She refused any offers of food or drink. Doubt began to creep into his mind. Was she having second thoughts?

When they stopped at the next town, he took her to one side.

‘You haven't said anything all morning, Clarice; have I done something wrong?'

She took hold of his hand and gave him a weak smile.

‘You haven't done anything wrong. I suffer terribly from travel sickness and it takes all my strength not to be ill. We have to keep moving, but until we reach Sharnbrook it is unlikely you'll get much conversation from me.'

Relieved, he brushed a kiss on her cheek.

‘My youngest sister suffers from it too. Have you tried ginger sweets? Emma sucks on them while we are travelling and then sips ginger tea at night. It doesn't cure her completely but at least she is not nauseous.'

‘I will try them,' Clarice replied.

When they next stopped again in another town, David quickly found a local shop that stocked all manner of sweets and purchased several large bags. For the rest of the trip, Clarice sat sucking on ginger sweets, her face a little brighter. By the time they crossed into Bedfordshire, she was able to keep some food down and the spark had returned to her eyes.

As the carriage slowed to a halt at Sharnbrook Grange, she sat forward in her seat and pressed her face excitedly to the glass. ‘I shall remember this moment for the rest of my days. My very first glimpse of the Grange,' she said with a smile.

David smiled tightly back at her. There were several large mountains left to climb before Clarice became a permanent fixture at Sharnbrook. ‘But not today; today is ours,' he muttered as he climbed down from the coach.

When Lady Alice took her customary afternoon nap, David and Clarice were able to spend some precious time together. They walked through the yard, where he introduced her to various members of the household. David said nothing when he noticed his steward Bannister had changed from his trusty old brown jacket into a slightly less tired blue one.

When Clarice made mention of how she liked the colour of his jacket, Bannister turned a deep crimson and bowed a second time. David strangled a snort. A wicked glint appeared in Clarice's eye before she mentioned that perhaps he should invest in such a fine piece of clothing. He raised an eyebrow. If his tailor in Bond Street saw him in such attire he would never be allowed to set foot in their premises again.

He took Clarice gently by the arm and steered her toward the path that led away from the house. ‘Are you perhaps interested in livestock, Lady Clarice? I could show you my new flock,' he asked once they were away from the staff.

She giggled. ‘Why, thank you, Mr Radley; I have a lively interest in all manner of animals. Especially the two-legged variety native to the parish of St James.'

A clump of trees now hid them from view of the house. David pulled her roughly to him and kissed her.

Hard.

As their lips met, he felt the heat begin to rise within him. Lust, pure and unadulterated, coursed through his veins. He wanted her, ached for her. Feared he would go blind with desire before he could have her in his bed.

He was too busy dominating her mouth with his lips to realise that she had flipped open the middle button of his shirt. The sensation of Clarice's bare fingers touching his chest caused him to gasp. She gave a wicked chuckle, before opening the next button.

He swallowed deeply and took hold of her wrist. ‘We are not
that
far from the house,' he cautioned, before letting go.

She gave a mewl of disappointment, but refused to remove her hand. Slowly he found himself backed up against a nearby tree. The arch seducer was being played at his own game. Her nimble fingers squeezed one of his nipples and he laid his head back against the bark of the tree.

‘Clarice,' he ground out.

‘Yes?' she replied as her other hand moved down toward a far more dangerous place on his body.

He looked up and saw the clouds swirling overhead. The temptation to just stand there and let her have her way with him was deliciously enticing. He sighed as he reached down and took hold of one wandering hand.

‘Not here, my love.'

She huffed and removed her other hand.

David buttoned his shirt and pushed away from the tree. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to think of something that would calm the raging erection in his trousers.

‘There was little point in bringing Lady Alice as chaperone if within an hour of our arrival you have lost your innocence. I will not ravish you out here in the wild,' he said.

She scowled. ‘So when?'

He shook his head. ‘Patience, my love. We have a whole lifetime ahead of us.'

She shrugged her shoulders and pointed to the nearby field, which was now stocked with a fine head of sheep. ‘Come then, let me judge if your sheep are half as good as my father's,' she said, offering him her hand.

He took her hand. ‘Actually, I am rather pleased with the Southdowns. They arrived while you were in Norfolk. The ram I am yet to see.'

He looked down, surprised to feel a tremble in her hand.

‘Clarice?'

‘Thank you for saving me,' she said, lowering her head.

The brave and sexy Clarice of a minute ago had disappeared. In her place stood a frightened, vulnerable young woman.

‘You saved yourself, as I understand,' he replied, feeling an utter heel for having rejected her advances. She needed reassurance of where she stood with him, not a lecture on morals. He put a comforting arm around her.

‘Not just from that evil man. I don't know if I could have done any of this if it hadn't been for your letter. I read it over and over. When I think of how long you have loved me from afar, how you held on to those impossible dreams. You gave me the reasons and the strength to face my fears.'

He smiled at her, his heart swelling with pride.

‘Do you have the slightest notion as to how wonderful you are?' he replied.

Lady Alice retired early that evening, leaving David and Clarice alone in the elegant drawing room. As the dowager countess left the room, David turned to Clarice.

‘I am not certain of the protocol here, as we are now left without a chaperone. Should I ask your maid to come and sit with us?'

She shook her head before crossing to the door and closing it behind her.

‘We need to talk,' she said. She ignored the questioning lift of his eyebrows as she took a seat next to him on the couch.

‘Let me see if I have things straight in my mind. You won't elope with me to Scotland because you want a big London wedding?'

He nodded.

‘But you won't ruin me. That part I do not understand, especially when it is the key to ensuring that we have to marry.'

He sighed. ‘I won't ruin you unless there is no other choice.'

Clarice threw up her arms. ‘So why did you bring me all the way to Bedford? I thought you said you were kidnapping me! If I understand it correctly, you should be ravishing me right now.' She nodded toward the door. ‘Even my grandmother seems to have accepted the inevitability of us becoming lovers. Why can't you?'

Eyes closed, she immediately began to chastise herself. Surely behaving like a shrew was not the way to get a man to seduce.

He reached out and took her by the hand. Raising it to his lips, he kissed her fingertips. A warm heat pooled in her loins and her breathing became shallow. David placed a trail of kisses up her arm until he reached her shoulder, at which point he bit gently into the hollow of her neck.

She shivered, and prayed he would continue.

‘Clarice, my darling, you must understand that being this close to you, knowing I could take you right here and now and you would let me, is the sweetest torture I have ever known. But until your father gives us his blessing, we should wait.'

He pulled away. When she looked at his face, his eyes were glazed and his breathing ragged. She heard him swallow deeply.

‘I have brought you to Sharnbrook Grange to draw your father out. If I take you back to London, then negotiations have to be conducted on his terms. By making him come here, I have at least some chance of dealing with him on equal terms.'

Clarice rose from the couch and faced David. ‘So how do you propose to get my father here?'

A knowing grin appeared on his lips. ‘Before we left Langham Hall I made sure he would know where we were going. At my reckoning, we have two, perhaps three days before he arrives here.'

She clamped her teeth together and nodded. She now knew how little time she had left to break David's resolve. The calm, controlled words he spoke said one thing, but when they were close his body screamed others.

‘I might just go to bed, then. The ginger sweets certainly helped with my stomach, but travel does tend to tire me out,' she replied.

He stood and they shared a warm kiss. When David began to deepen the kiss, Clarice pulled away.

‘Soon, very soon, my love,' she said with a smile.

‘Do you have everything you need?' he replied.

‘Yes, thank you. Good night, David.'

Once she was back in her room, Clarice allowed Bella to brush her hair and lay out a nightgown on the bed. She dismissed her maid for the rest of the night.

Crossing quickly to one of her travel trunks, she threw open the lid. At the very bottom of the trunk was a small parcel wrapped in paper. She retrieved it and unwrapped it. It was surprising how something so small had cost nearly the same price as a new gown.

Holding the cream nightgown up to the light, she gasped at how sheer it was. When she waved a hand on the other side of the gown, a giggle of wicked delight followed. She could see right through it!

Throwing off her sensible warm nightgown, she slipped the delicate muslin gown over her head. Scooting across the room to the mirror, she stood and admired the cream and lace perfection that now hugged the curves of her body.

Whoever had designed the gown knew exactly where to place the strategic pieces of lace, which served as a whisper to modesty. The rest of the gown left nothing to the imagination. She put a finger to her lips and took a nervous breath. Could she really stand in front of David in this?

When Millie insisted she purchase the garment from the
modiste's
salon, Clarice had been horrified. What sort of lady would wear such a thing? Now, as she looked at the fine lace and barely-there fabric, she understood its purpose.

It was a weapon of seduction.

‘You may have chosen the battlefield, Mr Radley, but I intend to fire the first shot. Besides, you only said we should wait, not that we must.'

She picked up her long travel coat and buttoned it up over the gown. Praying she would not encounter any members of the household, let alone Lady Alice, Clarice slipped out into the hallway.

David stretched out in his bedroom fireside chair. Clad only in his tight buckskin breeches and his white shirt, he had settled in for an hour or so of solitude before turning in for a well-earnt rest.

A bottle of wine left over from dinner sat on a nearby table. He raised his glass and offered himself a silent toast.

Clarice now slept under his roof, under his protection. If Henry Langham wanted to resolve matters, he would now have to come to Sharnbrook.

He took a mouthful of the wine and picked up the book he had started on the final leg of their journey. After reading the same paragraph on the perils of travel in northern Canada several times and absorbing none of it, he put the book down.

Clarice is asleep under my roof.

He groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. He was going to need another bottle of wine before he stood any chance of sleep tonight. He rose from his chair and headed to the door, ever grateful that Bannister was a man who knew his wine. He pulled the door open.

On the threshold, with one hand raised ready to knock, stood Clarice. She quickly checked the hallway before sidestepping him and rushing into the room.

‘You had better close that and lock it,' she said, pointing to the door. ‘I didn't meet anyone on my way here, but I heard voices coming up from the kitchens a moment ago.'

David closed the door and turned to Clarice.

He blinked as he took in the sight before his eyes. Her hair had been let down and expertly brushed. Long blonde tresses kissed her shoulders and then continued to her waist.

She was clad in the coat she had worn for the journey from Langham Hall. He frowned, wondering where she could be headed for at this time of night.

His gaze drifted lower, taking in the bottom hem of the coat and the fine fabric of the gown she had on under it.

A scandalously sheer gown, in his considered and knowledgeable opinion. The breath caught in his throat when he saw her bare ankles and feet.

‘Clarice?'

She blinked and ran her tongue slowly over her lips.

‘David,' she whispered and flicked open the topmost button of her coat.

He swallowed as the first spear of lust raced to his loins. Not even a monk who had not set eyes on a woman for fifty years could mistake that look.

‘I thought we had agreed to wait until I have secured your father's blessing,' he said. The puff of air he released from his cheeks belied his attempt at a cool exterior.