The Rebellious Twin (24 page)

She nodded. “There’s Rissa.”

He bit his lip, in deep thought. “She’s a danger to you.”

“Oh, I hardly think — “

“She’s a danger,” he said in a voice that did not invite argument.

She spread her palms. “But she’s my sister. I hardly know whether to confront her or not.”

“Let’s think on it a few days, shall we?” Leading his horse, Stormont came back to her and kissed her on the cheek. “Meet me tomorrow at Hollyridge — the stables, early morning. I have things to discuss with you that have nothing to do with Rissa.” Gently he ran his hand across her cheek, through her hair until a shuddering sigh of wanting ran through him and he pulled his hand away. “Oh, God, you’re beautiful,” he said, almost in a moan, “and I — I — ” He regarded the sky, then backed away and mounted Sham. “Until tomorrow,” he said brusquely and rode away.

What had happened to Clarinda?

All day, Rissa’s suspicions grew. Clarinda had bounced in from her morning ride, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. During the day, the house rang with her infectious laughter, a sound no one had heard for months. She was smiling a lot, a far cry from the melancholy expression she had worn of late.

Was it Stormont? Was Clarinda seeing him again? But that would be impossible, Rissa decided. Surely word of her visit to Lady Lynbury had long since reached Stormont’s ears. Still…

Stormont is mine, Rissa thought with mounting indignation. She had fallen deeply in love with him. She wanted him and she would have him. Nobody on this earth would stand in her way, most especially her twin sister, who had always gotten the best of everything all their lives, but not this time. By all that was holy, Clarinda would not win Stormont, the ultimate prize.

But first I must find out if what I suspect is true.

*

Early the next morning, in a light-hearted mood, Clarinda walked the distance from Graystone Hall to Hollyridge Manor. Robert was there when she arrived. He was saddling Sham. Donegal was already saddled. Pitney was there, too, along with a stable boy, so when Stormont gave her a formal bow and said, “Good morning, m’lady,” in a cool but courteous voice, she knew his formality was for the benefit of the stable hands.

Continuing in the same vein, Stormont asked, “Would you care to accompany me today? I’m headed down the river path.”

“I shouldn’t mind,” she said, as offhanded as he.

They rode slowly, chatting of this and that, she, sedately correct on her side saddle, until they reached the very log beside the path where once he had kissed her. Stormont brought Sham to a halt. “You might remember this spot.” His mouth quirked with humor.

“Somebody kissed me here,” she replied mischievously, “but I can’t remember who.”

She expected him to laugh, but instead, with a look of determination on his face, he swung off Sham, gently lifted her down from her saddle and set her on the ground as if she were a delicate porcelain figurine.

“You think I cannot dismount by myself?” she protested with a laugh. “I am not a fragile flower.”

“We must talk,” he said, ignoring her protestations.

He seemed so intent on his purpose that she said no more and allowed herself to be led to the log they had sat on before. Immediately he turned to face her, took her hand and cradled it in his own. “I love you, Clarinda,” he began. Joy shot through her. She tried to speak, but he continued, “No, don’t say anything more, not yet. “From the day we met — remember when you flew off your horse? I lost my heart when I looked at you, lying on the ground, the breath knocked out of you, your skirt — ” his eyes twinkled with remembrance ” — bunched up around those shapely limbs of yours. I never knew the meaning of the word smitten until that day. God knows, I tried to fight this attraction I have for you — ” he smiled ruefully ” — but I could not. I dream of you constantly.” He bit his lip and looked away, shaking his head in disbelief. “I never thought a woman could do this to me.” He turned back to look at her, a gleam of purpose in his eye, took both her hands and pressed them to his chest. “My dear Lady Clarinda, I am madly, passionately in love with you.” He had said the words lightly, but she could hear the dead seriousness that lay beneath. “I had vowed not to marry until I was forty, but that was before I knew of your existence. Will you marry me? I’m warning you, if you don’t, I am likely to pine away like Lucius.” He laughed, but she knew he meant his words.

“I love you too,” she said. Words to describe her love welled within her, but when she tried to speak again, he silenced her. “No, don’t say anything. I don’t want your answer now. You must think on it. Much is involved here.” Stormont frowned. “I am aware of your current situation with your family. And then there’s Rissa.”

“Rissa will not be pleased,” she said, thinking that was indeed an understatement.

“I fear Rissa has misinterpreted my attentions to her, which, I can assure you, have been merely friendly at best. Her visit to Lady Lynbury, impersonating you, is appalling. We must make sure she won’t do us any further mischief, if mischief is the word.” Stormont gazed deep into her eyes. She saw love there, and compassion, and longing. “Think about it tonight. Tomorrow I shall pay you a proper visit and receive my answer.”

“Of course.” And my answer will be yes, she wanted to cry, but if he wanted her to wait, she would. After all this time, where was the harm in waiting one more day?

*

Walking home, Clarinda felt a sense of wonderment at the turn her life was taking. She had been lost in darkness and despair for so long that the very idea she could be happy again was difficult to grasp. Stormont loved her! She felt like dancing down the path. He was worried about her family problems, but, really, they were minuscule. Papa would go along with whatever Mama said. Mama, of course, would protest that Rissa had some claim on Stormont, but in the end she would approve, once she knew whom Robert really loved. As for Rissa…

Clarinda had told Stormont, “I don’t think Rissa will be a problem anymore.” She believed what she said. After all, what more harm could Rissa do?

*

Seething with a mixture of hurt, resentment, and jealousy, Rissa retreated to her bed chamber the moment she returned from her walk along the river path. It had been easy to follow Clarinda, and step out of sight when Clarinda and Stormont dismounted at the very same spot where they had embraced before. A handy spot for spying, Rissa thought with grim irony. She had managed to keep herself well hidden, yet close enough to hear each one of Lord Stormont’s perfidious words.

She had been shocked beyond all measure. Robert had called at Graystone Hall several times, surely just to see her. He had not, in fact, shown the least regret that Clarinda had pleaded a headache and not come down to join them. What Rissa couldn’t understand was, how could he possibly love a girl like Clarinda? She was stubborn and rebellious. She was outspoken and freely expressed her own opinions. Men deplored such traits in a woman, which was why she, Rissa, had gone to such lengths to demonstrate her skills in music, water colors, and embroidery. Surely Stormont must have observed how she excelled at light conversation and the pouring of tea. Why would he not think she would make the perfect wife? She, who aside from being beautiful, was cheerful and obedient, with naught but frivolous thoughts in her head?

He doesn’t love Clarinda, he only thinks he does, Rissa concluded. Given a little time, she was sure she could change his mind, but she had only until tomorrow when Stormont came to call. Clarinda would surely say yes, and when she did, he would go directly to Papa and ask for her hand. There could be no going back after that, they’d be good as married. Rissa pictured herself standing next to Clarinda at the wedding. Oh, the humiliation! How could she smile and act happy for her sister when underneath she would know that Clarinda had won again, just as she had done all their lives?

Rissa raised a clenched fist and fervently vowed, “She won’t win, not this time!” There must still be a way to win Stormont. She must think of it and act quickly.

Rissa flung herself on her bed and for a long time stared at the ceiling, hands behind her head. She considered countless schemes, discarding them all, until at last — ah! why had she not thought of this before? She had found the perfect plan.

*

Clarinda was in her bed chamber, staring out the window when Rissa knocked and entered. “Yes, Rissa?” she asked coolly. Despite her euphoria, she had not forgotten her sister’s trickery.

“Come sit down,” Rissa replied, ignoring her sister’s hostility. “I must talk to you.”

After Clarinda settled on the edge of the bed, Rissa on the settee, Rissa said, “I have a proposition for you.”

“What kind of proposition?” Clarinda asked, full of suspicion.

Rissa settled back, relaxed and sure of herself. “You’ve known Sara Sophia all your life, have you not?”

“Of course. You know that.”

“And you love Sara Sophia, don’t you, and consider her your dearest friend?”

A lot more so than you, Clarinda thought. “Yes, she is my dearest friend, but what is this about?”

Rissa peered at her thoughtfully. “I simply wanted to make sure that Sara Sophia means a great deal to you. Do you feel bad, now that she’s gone to work as a governess?”

“Bad is hardly the word. Sara Sophia was happy and content with her life at Hollyridge. Now she’s working as a governess in a place where they treat her little better than a servant. Remember how she loved horses? Now they won’t even let her ride. Then, too, she had developed a great fondness for Lord Wentridge, and he for her. It’s hopeless, of course. My heart aches every time I think about what’s happened to her, but what can I do?”

“There’s something you can do,” Rissa answered with a triumphant little smile, “something so magnificent, so totally astounding and incredible, that Sara Sophia’s life will be changed forever.”

“But what?” cried Clarinda, astounded at Rissa’s words. “Tell me!”

“All in good time.” As if trying to put her thoughts together, Rissa stood up and started pacing the floor. Nervously she pursed her lips and pressed her hands together as if in prayer, until finally she stopped and said, “Listen to me,” and sat next to Clarinda on the bed. “Sara Sophia is not what she seems. I have written proof.”

“Of what?” Clarinda was completely bewildered.

“Sara Sophia is a countess, and wealthy besides. It’s a long story, but it’s true.”

“But I don’t understand. How would you know — ?”

“I just know,” Rissa answered petulantly, “and I can prove it, but I must ask you something first.”

Clarinda fought to stay calm, not easy with this shocking news concerning her friend. “Then get on with it,” she demanded, none too politely.

In characteristic fashion, Rissa made a little moue. “No need to get testy. Let’s say, for instance, you have a friend whom you have known all your life and love dearly, and this friend has fallen on bad times and needs help.”

“All right, let’s say that.” Lord give me patience, Clarinda prayed silently.

Rissa went on, “And let’s say, for instance, there is a certain man you have fallen in love with.” Rissa’s voice hardened. “Mind, he’s not just any man, he’s titled, rich, handsome and personable.” The inharmonious change in Rissa’s voice chilled Clarinda’s heart. She wondered what her twin could possibly be up to. Whatever it was, it boded ill. “And let’s say,” Rissa continued, “just for instance, that this man you have fallen in love with has asked you to marry him.”

She knows, Clarinda thought with fearful clarity. She felt a shock run through her. There was only one way Rissa could know of Stormont’s proposal — she must have spied on them. Appalled, she slid from the bed and glared, hands on hips, at her sister. “You were on the path this morning, weren’t you? What a despicable thing to do. How low! Where were you — hiding behind a bush?”

Rissa gave a disdainful shrug. “What if I was? Do you want to help Sara Sophia or not?”

“Of course I want to help, but — ” Clarinda silenced herself and sank back down on the bed. However incensed she might feel about Rissa’s blatant spying, she realized Rissa had the upper hand. “Do go on,” she said, her voice tight.

Rissa regarded her with utter unconcern. “That’s smart of you, sister. As I was saying — “

“I have heard enough of what-ifs,” Clarinda cut in. “Just tell me what you want.”

Rissa raised her brows as if amazed. “When will you ever learn your manners? All right then, what I want is this. Sara Sophia is a countess, and rich besides.”

“You said that before, but that’s hard to believe,” Clarinda said. “Are you sure?”

Rissa retorted, “Of course I’m sure. I have positive proof. Can you imagine what this proof would do for your poor little orphan friend? She would not have to be a governess anymore. She could own all the horses she ever wanted and live in comfort the rest of her life. Best of all, Lord Wentridge’s parents would be thrilled to have her in the family. Think of it, Clarinda, your dear friend could marry the man she loved, ride horses all the day if she liked, and lead a gloriously happy life until the day she died.”

Clarinda sat shaking her head. How wonderful, to think Sara Sophia could be happy again! And yet, Rissa’s claims were incredible. She was filled with doubt. “But I just don’t see — “

“You will. I told you I have proof which I shall be happy to provide you on one condition.”

Here it comes, thought Clarinda. She knew her twin too well not to know such wonderful news would come with a price. “What’s the condition?” she asked, and braced herself.

“I shall give you all the proof you need that Sara Sophia is indeed a countess. Written proof, by the way, and I shall lead you to a certain treasure that is hers. In return for helping your friend — ” Rissa paused and regarded her sister with flat, hard passionless eyes. “You will swear on a bible that you will refuse Lord Stormont’s proposal of marriage when he comes calling tomorrow.”

In stunned silence, Clarinda felt the blood leave her face. “You can’t mean this.”

“But I can. I’ve thought it over carefully.” Rissa’s face suddenly clouded. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Don’t you understand I love him? I want more than anything in the world to be his wife. I dream of being mistress of Hollyridge Manor. I would have the most wonderful parties and dinners and balls. I’d be the perfect hostess, much better than you because you don’t care about those things. Besides — ” Rissa’s brow furrowed in an affronted frown ” — I saw him first.”