The Rebellious Twin (30 page)

Papa said, “You were going to tell me about that promise.”

Clarinda pulled her thoughts together and told her father the whole story of Stormont’s proposal and why she had rejected him.

Papa listened with growing astonishment. “Rissa actually made you swear on the bible?”

“That I would reject Lord Stormont,” Clarinda confirmed, “and so I did. I hurt him badly. It was terrible.”

Papa sat for a time, drumming his fingers. At last he said, “I shall send a note to Stormont asking him to stop by tomorrow. It would appear it’s time for me to buy back your horse.”

A cry of relief broke from Clarinda’s lips. “Oh, Papa, can you afford — ?”

“It’s not a matter of whether I can afford it or not,” Papa said with a thoughtful smile, “it’s a matter of setting things right.”

This morning was full of surprises, thought Robert as he approached the music room at Graystone Hall. First, Lord Capelle, without explanation, had bought back Donegal at the full price Robert had paid, and had insisted upon adding ten guineas more. Actually, Robert would have preferred to keep the fine Irish Hunter, but he had always made it a point to accommodate friends and good neighbors, such as Capelle.

Another surprise: Rissa was not anywhere about, and if the servants’ rumors were true, good God! What a boon for Clarinda if that devious chit had really been sent off to Wales.

Then he had been more than surprised, he had been astonished, when, at the end of his conversation with Lord Capelle, the kindly man had said, “Oh, by the way, there’s someone in the music room who wants to see you.”

As Robert opened the double doors and stepped inside, he wondered if it was Clarinda who would be waiting. If so, he could not imagine what she wanted. Hadn’t his heart been bruised and trampled upon enough? There was no point in his subjecting himself to further torment. If, indeed, it was she, he would quickly depart.

He took a quick, sharp breath. It was Clarinda, sitting at the piano, toying with the keys. She looked lovelier than he had ever seen her with her golden hair piled atop her head, her throat warm and shapely over the low-cut bodice of her blue gown. She stood when she saw him, a smile lighting her face. “Robert,” she said softly, and came around the piano to stand in front of him.

“Clarinda,” he said, placing a chill around her name. She moved a step closer. “No, don’t,” he said, and backed a step away.

She began, “But I want — “

“What could you possibly want?” he asked coldly. Haven’t I been hurt enough? he wanted to add, but pride prevented him. “I am a firm believer in putting disappointment behind me, so if you’re trying to assuage my feelings — “

“May I change my no to yes?” she asked, looking up at him with those blue, compelling eyes.

He was momentarily speechless. “What the deuce do you mean?”

“I mean I want to marry you.” She moved closer. “If it’s not too late? If you haven’t found someone else in the meantime?”

“You know I haven’t.” His mouth quirked into a rueful smile and he asked, none too politely, “Just what has changed your mind?”

She reached and gently placed one of her soft, white hands high on his sleeve. He stared at her delicate wrist as her fingers slowly traced a path down his arm with a feathery touch. Then she reached and did the same with her other hand, so that instead of his being able to think straight, his heart started hammering.

“I should be happy to tell you what changed my mind,” she said, sliding her hands around his neck, “but I’m wondering, could you kiss me first?”

In his last reasoning moment before passion overpowered him, he asked, “You do have a good explanation?”

“Oh, a very good one,” she said as her warm fingers caressed the back of his neck, causing instant heat to radiate from the core of his being. Then she pulled his head down to where she, on tiptoe, could press her warm lips to his. He was immediately hers, of course, amused at himself as the last of his resistance fled — as if there had been much to begin with! — and he swept her into his arms. He pulled his lips from hers long enough to ask, “Was it Rissa?”

“Mmm,” she said in reply, which probably meant, yes, it was indeed Rissa who had caused whatever the problem was. Right now, though, as he surrendered to his aching, burning need to possess his beloved Clarinda, it mattered not one wit.

1811

“Here they come!”

Lady Clarinda Stormont’s joyous laughter filled the air as she stood at the front portico of Hollyridge Manor. “It’s going to be wonderful, seeing Sara Sophia again,” she remarked to Robert as the coach-and-four, doors adorned with the elaborate Wentridge coat-of-arms, came rolling up the driveway.

Robert curved his arm affectionately around her shoulders. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Lucius,” he commented with a smile. “The old boy never visits London anymore. Hard to believe he was one of the most notorious rakes in London. Now they’ve forgotten his name at White’s, let alone all his favorite taverns.”

“What a pity,” said Clarinda, casting her husband a teasing glance. “Now the poor man is buried in the countryside with a wife he adores, and two fine sons. Such a fate!”

“He’s a fortunate man,” said Robert, turning serious. “As am I.”

“Sara Sophia is fortunate, too.” Clarinda looked up at Robert, her adoring husband, who for the past five years had been her heart’s passion, companion, steadfast support. She flashed a radiant smile. “And I’m the most fortunate one of all.”

She glanced fondly down at Phillip, her two-year-old son, who played at her feet, and at Elizabeth and Catherine, her four-year-old twins. At the moment they were behaving like little ladies, but that would not last long.

*

Lady Sara Sophia Wentridge peered eagerly from the window as the coach rolled to a stop at the front portico. “Almost there, Lucius,” she said to her husband who sat across. “I am so looking forward to seeing Robert and Clarinda and the children.” She reached to take the small bundle Lucius had been holding. “Here, let me have the baby. He’s drooling on your coat.” She peered out the window again. “There they are, waiting to greet us. How handsome they look! There’s little Phillip, and, oh, my stars! there’s the twins. They are so adorable with those blonde curls and blue eyes. So exactly alike!”

“But I’d wager dressed totally unalike,” Lucius noted with a chuckle.

“They will never dress the same,” Sara Sophia said, “not as long as Clarinda has anything to say about it.”

“Which reminds me, my sweet Countess, how is her twin?”

“Rissa? From what I hear, she’s doing passably well, although, frankly, I do not believe those two years she spent in North Wales changed her one wit. She’s the same old Rissa, self-centered as ever, yet different, too. She seems to have lost much of that bubbly charm she had when she was younger.”

“Unlike Clarinda.”

“Indeed, Clarinda hasn’t changed a bit. But poor Rissa … Though I hate to say it, the last time I saw her she reminded me of her sour-faced mother.”

“Married one of the Suftons, did she not?”

“Yes, and he keeps her buried in the country while he spends his time in London, leading quite the life of debauchery, from what I understand.”

“Didn’t know he was the type.”

“He wasn’t.” Not until he married Rissa, Sara Sophia thought but didn’t say, loath as she was to vilify anyone, even Rissa.

The coach rolled to a stop. Sara Sophia flung open the door, jumped down, and practically fell into the arms of her dearest friend. “What a joy to see you again!”

Clarinda made no attempt to hold back her tears. Silently she hugged Sara Sophia tight.

Lucius ascended. After a warm greeting, Robert remarked, “Come Lucius, you must see my thoroughbreds. I’ve had more success with them here than I ever could have at Oakley House.”

As the two strolled away, Clarinda felt a torrent of memories come flooding back. Over a lump in her throat, she said, “Forgive me, I was just thinking of the old days and those horrid times we went through.”

“I think of them often,” Sara Sophia replied. “I like to remind myself of that awful time I spent as a governess, just so I’ll appreciate how lucky I am now.”

A thoughtful smile curved Clarinda’s mouth. “Remember when my parents sold Donegal? And I thought I’d have to marry Larimore? And I was sure my father didn’t love me anymore?”

“Of course.”

“And all the trouble with Rissa? I thought I’d never be happy again, but now…”

Gazing about her, Clarinda took in the beauty of Hollyridge Manor and the magnificent horses grazing in the green fields beyond. Graystone House lay but a mile away. Often she went riding with her father, he on Jupiter, she on her beloved Donegal. She caught sight of Robert’s wide-shouldered, long, lean form, as he strode with Lucius toward the stables. She thought of how proud he was of her — their children — his expanding stable of thoroughbreds and her heart swelled with love and pride.

“Isn’t life wonderful, Sara Sophia?”